Rebecca
by IfUKnew.Acalanto
Summary: The Immunes did not shoot Rachel that night in the hotel, they took her, but the Navy gave chase. And now, months after the tragic way that night ended, Tom is struggling to come to terms with his failure...but did he really fail her? Tom/Rachel
1. The Concern of Friends and Family

**Note from the Author's:**

Hello, we are IfUKnewUCouldNotFail & Acalanto. We are from Australia and Brazil. Welcome to our joint writing project. A lot of you will already recognize us. We have both published numerous stories in this fandom. You may also recognize _this_ story…

Let us take a moment to explain our project and our process. The 'bare bones' of this story, previously titled 'Fire and Ice' are indeed not new. It was Acalanto's brainchild, written and published by her alone originally. Now English is not Acalanto's native language and the original version of this story was a true accomplishment given her level…but there was still a lot of room for corrections and expansions to greatly improve the flow and overall presentation of this story.

That is where IfUKnew came in.

So even if you have read this story before, we would both humbly ask that you give it another try, and here is why:

 ***** The grammatical errors are largely all corrected. (Though IfUKnew does not claim to be perfect…)

 ***** The word length is shaping up to be double the original version!

 ***** It is not finished! That's right, there is still more to come folks and boy do we have some twists and turns in the works.

 **Note:** For those of you who were following the sequel to this story 'Love Has No Rules' These stories have now been combined and the rest of what would have been that story will be coming out before long in further chapters. But we believe that reading these coming chapters first will greatly help the flow of the entire story we are telling.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own The Last Ship, unfortunately… No profit made…unfortunately. Just for fun, fortunately for everyone! :-D

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 **Chapter 1: The Concern of Friends and Family**

 _'_ _Before leaving for revenge, dig two graves.' ~ Confucius._

Ashley and Sam were excited to see their father. They did not talk about anything else. On the plane taking them to St. Louis, they would not stop chattering away.

Though since learning of Dr. Scott's tragic death, Jed had been preoccupied. He knew that Tom had cared about her more than he had wanted to admit.

"Grandpa, you are not listening." Sam complained.

"Sorry Sammy, look kids, we're here."

The plane getting ready for landing distracted the two for a moment.

It didn't last, of course. Soon they were back to talking a mile a minute.

"Will we stay on the ship?" Asked Sam.

"The ship is in dry dock, silly." Said his sister.

"We will stay in a house, guys. Your father has organized everything, each of you will have your own room, and I have explained this to you."

"Can we bring things from the old house?" Sam piped in.

"Sam, what is important here is your father, and our family finally being together again."

"Sure." Replied Sam, though he did not seem convinced.

When the plane finally landed, Tom was there to greet his newly arrived family. He had missed them…and feared for them, so much…

Ashley shouted when she saw her father. Tom bent down and hugged her and then her brother.

"Daddy, are you okay?" Sam asked, an assessing look on his face, quite uncharacteristic for either the boy or his age.

"I am fine Son, don't worry about me, just my old bones." He blew off the question, slightly troubled that his youngest had apparently so quickly looked at him and seen a problem.

Though apparently his answer had satisfied the boy. After a moment he continued enthusiastically. "Dad, we came here a really big plane, and it was all just for us! Cool, huh?"

Tom ruffled his son's hair. "Very _cool_ , Sammy. C'mon, our car is waiting." Tom indicated for his entire family to follow him.

Two men were waiting in the car.

"Dad, kids, this is Cruz and Wolf." Tom introduced.

Brief pleasantries were exchanged by all. Tom smiled proudly, but sadly, at his children's polite and formal greetings to the two new men…Darien's influence right there.

It wasn't the first time, and Tom knew it wouldn't be the last time, that he would be painfully reminded of his wife's influence...and passing. But at least where his wife's loss was concerned, he was choosing, with some success, to focus on the positive…on her two greatest creations and legacies that were now back with him where they belonged.

He wished he could attest to such progress in his anguish for another woman…a woman who had _not_ been his wife, or even his lover…but he could not. He remained mired.

The children were still chattering about their trip, their new home, and about the things from their old house. Tom did all the right things; answered their questions, drew Ashley's attention when she pestered her brother, he was patient when he should be, smiled at the right times.

However, Jed wasn't fooled, something was very wrong…and he had known exactly what it was even before landing, he had just not known it would be this bad. Jed continued to study his son carefully during his interaction with his children. It wasn't overt, but when the truth hit him, it hit him like a tone of bricks. His son looked like an empty shell, even worse than their time in Baltimore. His smile never reached his eyes at all…it was all just a complete façade.

It would have been easy to assume that his daughter-in-laws not so long ago demise was the reason for his son's current state, but Jed knew better. He had spoken to his son, seen him over video chat. Progress had been made since that terrible time of loss. Now what he was witnessing was that it was all gone, and _then some._

When they got to the new house, the children were the first out of the car. Jed tried to stop them, but Tom waved him off, saying it was ok. The two men followed the exuberant children into the house.

Besides the two soldiers who had accompanied them, whom he had noted with satisfaction seemed very alert and at work outside, Jed hadn't see any other security on the perimeter.

The house was one-story, spacious and well lit, the children ran to see their new rooms.

"All the surrounding houses are occupied by crewmembers. This fact increases our security." Tom explained.

The children returned happy.

"I like my green room." Exclaimed Sam.

"Mine is more beautiful, it is blue like the sea." Said Ashley.

"Well, at least we have one more representative of the army in this family." Jed said with a smirk. The joke was old and always caused a response from Tom, but not this time.

"I prefer the Navy, like Dad." Said Ashley, taking her usual part in the old argument.

"You can both do whatever you want when you grow up, of course." Tom smiled indulgently once again, and again the smile did not reach his eyes…

"Can we go outside, Dad? See around the other houses and other places?" Sam asked excitedly.

"I'm afraid I have to get back to work pretty soon, buddy." Tom told his son, he saw the disappointment in the boys face. It was far from the first time he had seen disappointment in his children's eyes when his commitments and responsibilities had taken him away from them.

But it hurt more now, because in truth, even without those commitments, Tom didn't feel like the whole person who could be and give them what they needed anyway…he felt like he was faking it…which he was.

Thinking of at least a very temporary solution to the current problem, Tom went and opened the front door and called to Tex who he knew would nearby.

He hadn't exactly lied to his father, Tex did indeed live very nearby and he wasn't exactly officially on duty today…but he also kind of was. The other man had easily identified Tom's particular anxiety about security today, after what happened to Rachel, and with his family's imminent arrival. And he had made it clear that he was going to be 'around' all day today... _unofficially_ , of course.

And he was, the other man took no more than a moment to appear, as if from the ether.

Tom wasn't remotely surprised at the other man's almost instant appearance, and simply made his request. "Tex, can you please take these two for a spin, show them around a bit?" He indicated his children who had joined him.

Tex didn't need to be told twice, helping out was what he was here for, and of course the command 'protect with your life' was implicit and didn't need to be given voice.

'Of course. c'mon, I know the coolest places." He reached out to Ashley and Sam and bowed theatrically. "Miss and my lord, I will be your host on this wonderful journey."

The children laughed at Tex's antics, immediately at ease.

Tom was glad that at least his children seemed were happy now.

Once Tex and the children were gone and he and his father were alone for the first time since their reunion, Tom immediately felt his father's eyes on him, and knew he would not be able to return…escape…back to work, as quickly as he had hoped.

He would not be able to avoid the questions…the well-meaning concerns. He sighed heavily…weary of it all.

"Are you Ok?"

"The wound is healing well, Dad." Tom replied, very deliberately misinterpreting his father's query.

"I am not talking about that injury." Jed replied significantly.

"Then what are you talking about, Dad? I have lost many people during this mission; want me to enumerate the names of them all?" Tom's voice was calm, as if reciting well-rehearsed history.

This was not normal, not for his son, Jed thought.

"That is bullshit! She was not one of your soldiers, Tom." Jed said, raising his voice, absolutely refusing to be put off, as his son was clearly trying to do.

"And so what?" His voice was still erroneously calm. "We are at war. She was a casualty of that war. She is gone, after her kidnapping…they killed her." His voice hitched as if the words had a significantly bitter taste…but at least it was a sign of emotion. "The past is irreversible." He stated with miserable finality.

"You may be able to sell that story to others, but we are talking about Rachel. I did not help raise a coward who runs away from his pain like this."

Tom wavered at his father's words.

Jed saw the opening and pressed on. ''Talk to me, Son, please..."

Tom took a deep breath, a dark shadow passed through his mind and his eyes took on a far away look. He took so long to answer that Jed thought he wasn't going to.

When he finally did, his voice was so low that the older man had to lean forward to hear him.

"When I think of Darien's death, I imagine her pain, the marks spread over her body, the fever, the delirium, the despair she must have felt at the thought that our children were condemned to death also." Then his voice grew louder, even more mournful.

"Now I have other images in my head, another woman… _burning_... I wonder if she was aware as the fire began to burn her body. If she screamed for help, if she choked on the smoke, if she died immediately or if her death was slow and agonizing too."

"Jesus Christ, Tom…" Jed exclaimed, horrified at his sons thoughts.

"It was not your fault, son." He went on to try and alleviate his son's demons.

"Like hell, it wasn't! It was my job to protect her and I failed! They kidnapped her, from right under my nose!" His abundant guilt over that particular aspect of events was painfully clear.

"Tom, the only people to blame for what happened are the Immunes, they..." Jed did not get to finish the sentence.

''Oh, you can be sure that I blame them, Dad. They will pay!" He ground out sharply.

Tom's gaze could freeze hell. Instinctively Jed backed away. He realized, not for the first time, that his son could be a dangerous and implacable opponent. He would not want to be in the shoes of his son's enemies, not for the world…

Jed didn't know which was worse, the complete lack of any tender emotion or the pure unadulterated hatred that he was witnessing right now.

For Tom, things had always been black or white, right or wrong, good or bad, without any gray area in between. Now Jed was very much afraid that his son had crossed a line that he could not come back from.

Jed worried about that pure hatred he saw in his son's eyes. He was scared witless himself, had lost two children to this virus, and a daughter-in-law, and now he very much feared losing his last child, to an unquenchable lust for revenge.

"Tom, Rachel would not want you to sink into this despair, into a desire only for revenge. Your mother and I created you and your siblings to be better than that!"

"You don't know what Rachel would want, Dad. She's dead!" He shouted.

"Who are you angry at, Tom? At the Immunes for causing the accident that killed Rachel or yourself for not being able to talk to her about the two of you while you still had a chance?"

Immediately Jed felt his son begin to shut down, shut off, both physically and emotionally.

"I have to go to work, don't expect me for dinner." His voice was now devoid of all emotion.

"Tom, wait…" Jed tried.

"No! That's enough, Dad!" Upset, Tom slammed the door and left.

In the minutes after Tom left, Jed decided he needed to find a way to help his son. He decided to talk to Mike about it.

When Tex returned with his grandchildren a little while later, he asked the other man to stay with the kids for a while longer. The other man readily agreed, and the children seemed fine with the prolonged arrangement too, having clearly taken a liking to the big man-child.

* * *

Jed found Mike in the command centre that had been set up to organize the production of the vaccine. The place swarmed with activity, security was tight. The Immunes were dangerous, as evidenced by the kidnapping of Dr. Scott.

"Hey, Mike. Can we talk?"

"Hey, Jed. Good to see you, sure, this way." He indicated the older man to follow him to a private room. "It's good that you and the kids are here now, Tom has been concerned about your safety with you guys being so far away, and...well, maybe now that you're here you can…help him." He finished lamely.

"So you're worried about him, too? God, I've only been here a matter of hours and I can see how bad it is, he hasn't done anything reckless, has he?" The fear in his voice was the fear that the situation might actually be even worse than his initial grave first impressions.

"No, it's nothing like that. People are far more afraid for _his_ wellbeing, not ours. He's still the leader he's always been. He is just acting so calm about the whole situation, cold, really. But it can't last, since she died, it's been like a time bomb or a volcano about to erupt around here. I tried to talk to him, but he refuses, he says it's past...won't say any more than that, but its clearly far from past for him." Mike finished his explanation succinctly, his displeasure about the realities in his retelling evident.

"Well, he spoke to me, or rather shouted. He keeps picturing Rachel's body on fire, he wonders if she died quickly, or if she died a slow and agonizing death. I tried to tell him it was not his fault." Jed recited in despair.

"Oh, God! But at least he finally reacted, even if it was screaming. This could really help him relieve some pressure. You made him actually talk about what happened! That's a win! He has been refusing to talk to anyone for all this time."

"Well, when you put it like that I guess it didn't go too badly then, but I went too far. I tried to make him admit what he felt for Rachel. I tried to make him see that some of the anger he is feeling is because he loved her."

Mike laughed but it was a hollow laugh. "Jed, you're a brave man. I can't imagine Tom took that very well at all."

"No, he didn't. It effectively ended the conversation. He yelled and slammed the door on his way out. Mike, I am worried, this situation is destroying him."

"He has not been very vocal lately. Except to give very clipped orders about work, of course. And he has worked to exhaustion. He loves you and the kids, Jed. The crew is important to him, maybe we can use that sense of responsibility that is so ingrained in him, to somehow help him out of this."

"Thank you, Mike, he will need all the help we can offer." Jed was genuinely glad to have a real ally in this, he felt his son would need all the help he could muster for him.

A soldier approached. "Sorry to interrupt you, Sir."

"I'll head back to the house, I left the kids with Tex..."

"Don't worry too much, Jed. We'll find a way to help Tom through this. Maybe we can talk to the Master Chief too, he might have some ideas to help."

Jed smiled a sad smile, nodded and left.

Mike thought of all the dangers that Tom had faced: explosions, gunfire, captivity on the Russian ship, terrorists at Guantanamo, death and shrapnel on the oilrig. Of all those losses and hardships, what was so very different this time? In his heart he already knew the answer and he grieved for his friend to have lost not one but two great loves in so short a time.

Mike took a deep breath and returned to his work.

 **TBC**

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A/N: We hope you liked this start to things! More soon, and yes, you may 'have faith'. ;-)


	2. Celebrations Turned Despairs

**Chapter 2: Celebrations Turned Despairs**

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 **A/N:** We wanted to thank everyone for the reviews, follows and favs. The support means a lot. :-)

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Someone decided to be generous and open the bar and offer free drinks to everyone. It was time to celebrate. After all these months, watching family and friends die, the nightmare was over, they were free of the virus, thanks to the Navy. They could start to rebuild their lives.

The bar was packed. There was music, food and drink, but mostly a sense of normalcy, which had been lacking for a long time.

Most people talked about what had happened that morning in the park. Of the presence of Navy soldiers, of the vaccine, they talked about seeing the new President being sworn in, about the party that was held in his honor. Many were still mourning the loss of loved ones, some were still suspicious of the cure, but most people believed this time was the start of a new beginning for everyone.

Two men, however, were only pretending to enjoy the celebration. They drank, chatted, and laughed. But it was all a façade, none of the events of this day did the two men believe were worthy of celebration, quite the contrary. They were in attendance for entirely different and far more nefarious reasons. They were determined in their goal to find a way to enter the President's hotel and get their hands on Dr. Rachel Scott.

The bitch that created the cure. A creation that was anathema to their fervent belief in their own absolute superiority.

On the outside they were men who did not arouse suspicion. They were very ordinary looking. They were brothers, same height, same brown hair and blue eyes. Dressed like many, in jeans, plain shirts, sneakers and jackets. The only thing worthy of note was that one of them had a tattoo on his left wrist, a skull.

"Look at them! Without this cure that bitch made they would all be dead now. We would be the only survivors, and we would walk this world as Gods. They do not deserve to live, they are not like us, not chosen." Jason said to the brother.

"After we deliver that bitch to our leader, they will not be able to produce anymore of the vaccine, we can destroy those few survivors and we can take our rightful place. We will rule the world!" Said Frankie excitedly.

They deliberately mingled among as many people as possible, their goal to gather some very particular intel, and they did finally hear one piece of very valuable information. One of the girls was saying that her older sister worked as a cleaner at the hotel. The very same hotel where their target currently resided. The new President's hotel.

"Can we join you?" Asked Jason.

"Of course." Most of them answered.

There were four men and two women in the group. One of them had been watching Jason and blushed when he looked at her. More precisely, it was the girl who said she had a sister working at the hotel.

Their target clear even before they had made their approach, Frankie distracted the others, while Jason focused all his attention on the poor young woman whose only crime had been to be unlucky enough to say exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time.

"Hello, what's your name?" Asked Jason with the fakest of endearing smiles, though invisible to a novice like the young woman.

"Maya." The girl replied shyly.

"It's lovely to meet you, Maya, I'm Jason." The charm was being laid on thick.

"Maya," Jason suddenly, _and belatedly_ , feigned sadness. "It's a beautiful name. It was my wife's name..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Maya announced, shocked at the news and his sudden change of demeanor.

"My wife and my daughter died from the disease. I think I should have died with them." Jason went on pathetically.

She put her hand on his in a gesture of comfort. "I also lost people I loved. But I am luckier than many. At least I have my sister Sarah and my nephew, Benjie."

"How old is your nephew?" Jason asked with real interest. _Too much_ interest…

"Benjie is six years old, he is adorable." She shared proudly.

"And your sister, she's not here tonight?" He asked looking around. Again, the question was asked with far too much visible interest. Not the amount of interest a virtual stranger would usually show for another virtual strangers specific family situation.

But Maya didn't seem to notice, unfortunately. She was young, and despite her endured trails, still wanted to see the best in people. Like most people she was hopeful this day marked an end to the terrible existence they had been forced to endure till now. Besides, the man's interest could easily be explained away by the fake interest of many a man after a far more usual and less nefarious thing from a woman in a bar.

It was the sixth sense of an older, more experienced and less easily trusting person that would have alarm bells blaring in a panicked fashion…But Maya was unfortunately none of those things. And right now, in these unfortunate circumstances, that painted a big fat victim label on her forehead.

"No, she is at the hotel where the President is staying tonight, she is working there. My nephew is with a friend, at home." She explained, far too helpfully and totally missing the wide malevolent smile that briefly escaped him with her disclosure that not only was their newly identified ticket to their target already exactly where they wanted her…but the ticket to get _that ticket_ to do exactly what they wanted was clearly identified as well. The boy.

Distracted by his own malign thoughts, he did not hear Maya's next words. "Sorry, I was thinking about my daughter, she was also six." Jason said miserably, pretending suffering.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, and here I am chattering nonstop." Maya's anguish was real. She was a good person with genuine empathy for the plight of others. A weakness that Jason had already identified and was now exploiting to its full advantage.

"It's okay, it's good to hear you speak." Jason knew how to be charming, or rather how to _pretend to be charming_ , when he wanted, and he happily noted that it was working, the little idiot was eating it up.

She smiled at him in empathy, understanding and comfort. He smiled back. His smile was real, though motivated quite differently. He had her. She was his now. She just didn't know it yet.

Things proceeded much the same for a while longer, Jason drawing his helpless victim further and further in. She had to feel completely comfortable, she could not suspect the trap that was soon to be sprung. It grew late and people around them began to leave.

Eventually Maya too got up and said a genuine happy goodbye to them, preparing to leave with her friends.

"It was nice to meet you Jason. I hope we can see each other again." She said with a warm and also shy and hopeful smile.

"I know we will, Maya." And it was very easy for Jason to smile and say the words in return. She didn't know how true those words were, though she would soon be regretting her own.

Everything was working out perfectly. She would unthinkingly lead them to exactly the ammunition they needed to accomplish their goal tonight.

He watched her follow her friends out.

Frankie joined him and for a few moments they just waited, then with a shared conspiratorial and malicious smile they went outside and we started to follow the on foot group from a discreet distance.

They had to keep a fairly large distance, after leaving the immediate vicinity of bar the streets were deserted and they would have been easier to spot going in the same direction. But the lack of proper street lighting meant they were hidden even when they did dare encroach closer. The group was easy to follow, talking a laughing loudly and merrily, as those who had imbibed freely and were in a celebratory state of mind were want to do.

After walking for about ten minutes the pair crouched behind a pile of long uncollected garbage cans and large black plastic bags and watched their first target say goodbye to her friends and go into a house alone. The pair smiled at their continuing luck and waited for the remaining group to disappear into the distance.

"What are we going to do?" Frankie asked, clearly the follower in their criminal dynamic.

"We take them, the girl and the boy, and if we find anyone else in the house, we kill them. We don't need any loose ends tonight." Jason spoke the death sentence without a trace of remorse and actually with some detectable excitement.

The pair just observed for a while longer, then they entered the house and quickly, silently and ruthlessly cut the throats of the two older women they found in the first bedroom.

They found Maya in bed in a room at the end of the house, probably not sleeping yet but with eyes closed and happily relaxed in near sleep. By the way both men ogled her still peaceful form, it was clear they were planning to have their own, more personal, fun with her, once their mission was complete.

Jason grinned nastily, as if at his favorite part in his own self-orcastrated charade. Creeping silently towards her, he placed his hand hard over her mouth in a sudden movement and Maya jerked wide-awake with a start. Her eyes wide and terrified but the implacable hand over her mouth preventing her from making the smallest sound.

In the dim light coming from the lit hall, it was clear that Maya recognized Jason almost instantly, her eyes going even wider, if that were possible. But when she also saw the knife he was holding up threateningly, a knife that was dripping with blood, utter terror immobilized her and even her ability to draw air into her lungs seemed to freeze like the ice that had frozen the blood in her veins.

Jason smiled, relishing her clear terror, relishing that he was the cause of it.

"Let's go darling, we have to make a visit to your sister. But first we have to collect your adorable little nephew." Jason drawled menacingly, thoroughly enjoying every moment of her terror. He didn't miss the renewed look of petrified panic on her face at his mention of her nephew, that look was intoxicating to him.

Jason was the one who gave the orders, but his brother was no less terrifying to Maya and she struggled pathetically against the two larger and much stronger men as they forced her up and into the next room where the young boy slept. Their loud arrival immediately woke the child.

"Aunty Maya?!" Benjie cried in a panic as he was roughly pulled from his bed by one of the strange men.

"We are…we are…going to…visit your mother, Benjie" She answered, trying to calm her nephew in the increasingly seeming hopeless situation. She tried but failed to keep her voice was breaking and tears from falling.

They dragged them out of the house and Jason, taking both their hostages, immobilized and controlled by aid of his superior strength and threatening bloody knife, ordered his brother to hotwire a nearby car.

They were loaded into it, Maya struggling at first but stopping when Jason had removed the bloody knife from her own throat and placed it at her terrified nephews instead. Frankie drove and the ride went too fast. Soon they were outside the hotel.

They ordered Maya to say that she had to talk with her sister, because her nephew had been in an accident.

"Remember dear, I will be right there with you and if you make a single move I don't like, the boy dies…and so will you… _eventually_." Again, it was Jason that taunted the terrified Maya.

She approached the hotel, the man she now knew to be evil incarnate at her side, his knife concealed threateningly at her back…and her helpless nephew at the non-existent mercy of the other man outside. Unable to see that she had any other choice, Maya did as she was told and asked to speak to her sister.

A few minutes later, her sister appeared, clearly surprised to see Maya accompanied by a man she had never seen before.

Sarah began to speak. "What's going on…?" But she was interrupted.

"I killed your friends; your child is with my brother and will die too if you don't do exactly what I say. I need to enter this hotel unseen, is there an unguarded entry?" Jason spoke softly so as not to be overheard but his words were no less debilitating for Sarah.

She was instantly terrified, she shared shocked and distraught glances with her little sister. Part of her was in an utter panic, but soon the stronger force of the protective mother emerged.

"You have my son, you bastard!" She hissed quietly.

"Your son will be dead in minutes if you don't keep your voice down and do what I say. I've already killed your friends, and neither myself of my brother will hesitate to do it again, in fact we will rather enjoy it...when the time comes." Jason warned, running a faux loving hand down Maya's cheek, he threat clear.

Sarah shivered in dread, but remembering the unused disabled entrance, and like her sister, seeing no viable recourse but to acquiesce to despicable man…for her son's sake, she quietly and shamefully told him of the largely forgotten entrance.

"Very good girl." Jason spoke condescendingly. "Now find out which room that bitch they call Dr. Scott is in, and open that entry for me in half an hour. Half an hour, Bitch, a minute more and your kid dies, and I see any sign you've tattled and your kid dies…understand?" She nodded, tears in her eyes.

Sarah went back inside, trying to hide the fear for her sister and her son.

A thousand scenarios went through her head, if she said something to the soldiers... No... That man would kill her son and her sister. She had no choice here.

Whether a case of luck or extreme misfortune, an opportunity came almost immediately. The daughter of the Judge who had sworn in the new President delivered a dress to be taken to Dr. Scott at once.

Sarah immediately volunteered for the task and was given Dr. Scott's room details. She hurried off with the dress.

* * *

Rachel had just returned from meeting with the President; he had informed her that she was forgiven for the death of Niels Sorensen, officially, was presented with a presidentially signed pardon and everything.

A formality as far a Rachel was concerned, she still had work to do and the President not only knew that but _needed_ her to do it. Indeed, her orders now were to depart to commence that work the following day. So first thing tomorrow she would be traveling to begin coordinating the spread of the cure across the rest of the US.

Rachel did have conflicting feelings about the situation. She was happy because she was free of the murder charge, the work was her mission and she wanted to complete it, _desperately_ …but she was sad because this all meant she would be leaving Tom. They had managed to reconnect. Their reconciliation had began when she was changing his bandages, the way he said her name 'Rachel', she had felt she had been forgiven, at least on a small level.

And earlier in the park, when they were spreading the cure, she felt the intensity of the look Tom had given her, the feeling that there was only the two of them in the entire world.

Rachel did need to give him important information about the cure, She decided to also write him a letter and leave it at his door. In the letter, she opened her heart to him. Perhaps this time apart could be beneficial for both of them. She was not blind, she knew he felt something for her, but he was still in mourning for his wife. Tom was a man who would not get involved with a woman while a large part of his heart was still with another.

Rachel heard someone knock. She went and opened the door and was met with one of the women that was helping with preparations for the Inaugural ball. She was carrying a black lace dress and high heel shoes.

"Good evening, Dr. Scott. The Judge's daughter sent this dress for you." Rachel was taken aback for a moment as the young woman spoke the words in a huge rush that practically assaulted her when she first opened the door. The woman looked very nervous. Rachel found the notion strange that she could be the reason, but not coming up with another reason she tried to put the younger woman at ease in her presence.

"Oh, just put it on the bed please." She smiled kindly at the ill at ease young woman. And it seemed that another's kind thought at solved one of the trivial problems that had been on her horizon tonight. While she would do it, she knew it wasn't exactly appropriate to attend an inaugural ball dressed in jeans.

Sarah watched the Doctor too. She saw when she had closed an envelope smiling upon her arrival, the smile had been joyful and slightly mischievous, as if keeping a sweet secret just for herself.

This woman, who had apparently achieved the impossible, was also extremely beautiful. She had long brown hair and deep brown eyes, about five foot ten, she would have to be older than thirty, but she didn't look much more.

Sarah had expected an arrogant attitude, after all, she had discovered _The Cure_ , but the woman before her now seemed accessible and friendly.

 _My God, they will hurt her… kill her even! And I am helping them!_ Sarah thought sadly, in helpless silent panic.

"Sorry, what was your name?" The Doctor asked her.

"S-Sarah." She spoke stiltedly, actually meeting this apparently amazing woman was doing nothing for her resolve, but ever time she waivered she thought about her innocent little boy, and her little sister, and her strength was renewed…but the feat was painful. Everything about her current situation seemed impossible, but asking for help seemed too high a risk to take with the stakes as high as they were. She had lost everything else, she _couldn't_ lose the last of her family. _She couldn't._

"Thank you, Sarah." The Doctor smiled at her.

And Sarah felt even worse.

Her control of her emotions wavering, and very much afraid that tears would fall if she uttered so much as a word in response, she instead bowed her head and then practically raced from the Doctor's room.

* * *

Rachel was not ignorant of the young woman's strange behavior, but could not possibly guess at the true evilness that was the real reason for her anxious demeanor.

Rachel was soon distracted from her thoughts when she found a note on her bed that had been placed there along with the dress.

 _Dr. Scott,_

 _Sorry, you asked me to call you Rachel. You seem to be an admirable person, not just to have discovered the cure, but by the humility that shows when you talk about it. I took the liberty of sending this dress for you; I imagine you only have jeans. A nice dress and high heels is far better suited for a presidential party. There is no more fascinating and sensual thing than the way a woman holds herself. However, a woman needs to feel desired and admired, especially if she desires to arouse the interest of someone special._

 _I hope am I not presumptuous, I just think you deserve a bit of fun._

 _Sabrina Smith._

Rachel ran her hands over the truly beautiful dress and imagined the Captain's reaction. The time would come and she smiled at the thought. But first, she needed to arrange things for her trip the next day.

Sarah looked at her watch, twenty minutes had passed, she had to rush, she _could not_ be late. The door was far from the main entry guarded by the soldiers, she didn't think they knew of it at all.

She sought and found the door hidden behind some boxes, she removed the boxes one by one, taking care not to make any noise. She feared that the door had jammed, after so long without use. She pulled the lock and after a few tries the door gave way.

Upon opening the door, she found the man waiting for her, as she knew he would be, but it was no less unpleasant to see his cruel face again. She was unsurprised to see that he was now alone, but she nonetheless feared for her sister. What if he was lying and he had already… _No_! She couldn't contemplate that, _her darling little boy…_

"Which is her room? Take me there!" The man demanded.

She did as he said and they soon arrived in front of the poor doctor's room. Her captor knocked on the door strangely softly after shoving her right in front of the peephole. Dr. Scott opened the door almost immediately.

"Hello, Bitch." And he immediately aimed _a gun_ at Dr. Scott.

The Doctor was clearly shocked, especially to Sarah with him. She felt so ashamed of her role and almost immediately regretted leading the man here, but was still clueless as to other choices she could have made that had as good a chance of bringing back her precious baby alive and well.

* * *

"Don't make a sound, or I put I bullet in your head." Said the man.

"Come on." He pulled her violently. Rachel looked at the gunman. She did not doubt that he would be able to fulfill his threat. Immunes were dangerous fanatics. And she was doubtless that that was exactly what he was.

Rachel looked for a way to escape. However, the gun that was soon pressed into her back left her with few choices…and none of them good.

He took her to the basement, unfortunately encountering no one in this clearly less used section of the hotel. The young woman who had seemed nervous before, now seemed stuck in shock. She followed meekly at the man's order. Rachel could not quite figure out the other woman's part in the transpiring events. She was eventually shoved out a cluttered exit door and found herself outside the hotel, in an empty parking lot, her captor having escaped with her. The whole time Rachel had watched and waiting for an opening, but the man's finger had not strayed for the trigger, a trigger she believed he would actually enjoy pulling.

The man ordered the other woman to stay, to close and hide the door after their exit. He said that if she opened her mouth, her son and sister would die.

That confirmed what Rachel had already come to suspect. Sarah was not actually a willing accomplice to this, merely a pawn, now she had her confirmation.

He pulled Rachel through the shadows until they arrived at a car, where there was another man, a woman and a child. The even younger woman and the child, clearly also hostages like her, to the other man. The poor child seemed terrified.

When the other man saw them, he leered at her in a way that made Rachel's skin crawl and said. "You did it, Jason!"

"You had doubts, brother?" The man that still held her tightly with gun to her back responded, arrogantly.

"Let them go, you do not need them now." It may seem arrogant also, but Rachel was sure she was the main target here and as messily as this was shaping up, she really did _not_ want anyone else involved, especially a child.

"Shut up!" Jason shouted and deliberately hit her head hard into the car door as he pushed her into the back seat of the vehicle.

Despite her increasing pain, Rachel managed a challenging look at her captor, which of course only made him even angrier.

"Jason, we need to go, now!" Said a suddenly nervous Frankie, glancing around the too empty space behind the hotel. His brother didn't respond but got in the car and Frankie immediately gunned the engine and sped them all away.

 _Find me, Tom._ Rachel prayed as she felt herself start to feel lightheaded from the hard blow.

 _Find me…_

TBC


	3. Operation Rescue

**Chapter 3: Operation Rescue**

* * *

Tom watched his crew and his kids singing and having fun. It was nice to see them so relaxed and happy. Things had not been easy lately.

Now he was an Admiral. The President had informed him of the change. Tom didn't know if he felt comfortable with the situation. It wasn't that he doubted his ability, he just didn't like the bureaucracy. He would always rather action, and being in the midst of it all.

The change might not be what he wanted, but he could acknowledge that maybe it was exactly what he _needed._ The wound still throbbing at his side was a constant reminder, among other things, that he was no longer young, and his family really should be his priority now, after everything they had all been through in recent times.

Absently, he noted one of the women that had helped in the party preparations entering his line of vision, but as he watched more and more of his attentions came to be directed solely on her. He watched very carefully as she served the the Judge that had officiated the earlier ceremony _and the President._

Tom couldn't describe it exactly, except to say he felt a very strange vibe from her. He didn't know why exactly, but thoughts of his own personal concerns were quickly overshadowed completely by his curiosity over this woman's strange behavior. She seemed nervous, tense, and she didn't meet a single persons eyes.

It wasn't exactly an overt display, but Tom felt his muscles tense ready for action nonetheless. What Tom's gut was telling him couldn't be more dire, but it wasn't a proof. Far from it. He did know that the presence of soldiers left some civilians uncomfortable; they could be intimidating, even if unintentionally…and it wasn't always unintentional. It _could_ be that…but somehow, continuing to study the woman, he couldn't make himself buy it.

"Commodore! Won't you join the party? I bet you know some songs." Tex said as he approached.

"I do not sing, Tex." He replied absently, and with finality, his eyes barely leaving his target. Though he did allow his friend a small grin that spoke of his admiration for the man and his happiness at all they had accomplished together.

"Nonsense, your voice can't be worse than mine." Said Tex.

"At least take a glass of champagne, Captain. I would like to suggest a toast to team work."

Finding that the glass was already being placed in his hand and just taking it was the easier option, he acquiesced. "Cheers."

"Has Rachel already come down?" Tex asked innocently, conversationally.

"How would I know?" Tom replied defensively, suddenly more alert to his friends chatter, though his eyes still followed their mark.

Tex raised his eyebrows with interest at the telling response, though he continued without comment. "The Judge's daughter delivered a black dress _and heels._ " Tex confided with a smile.

"Not that she isn't a knockout any day of the week, but she will be drop-dead gorgeous in a dress and heels!"

Silently, Tom couldn't agree more, but his relationship, or lack thereof, with Rachel was too complicated to put voice to the thought.

To distract from his thoughts of a certain woman, Tom focused his mental energies on the other woman that currently held his attention for possibly far more nefarious reasons. Every soldier develops instincts that are important to keeping him alive on the battlefield. They are trained to recognize the danger signs that the subconscious picks up on, and these instincts were all but screaming at him right now.

* * *

Tex liked Rachel, but he had long realized that the beautiful Doctor only had eyes for the Captain, a Captain who at this moment was frowning, as if seeking the answer to a particularly challenging question.

Tex followed his gaze and saw a woman in her mid to late twenties, blonde hair, petite, serving the people who were with the President.

"What's wrong?" Tex asked, continuing to study the same subject matter that the Captain was, in an effort to work out for himself what had got the man so concerned in what should have been a lighthearted moment.

"I don't know, maybe we have been at war for so long that I'm paranoid. Seeing more trouble around every corner." Tom answered after a moment of consideration.

Tom had already learned that Tex was actually very observant, and his playfulness lent people the confidence to confide in him.

"Tex, what do you know about that woman?" He indicated the one that Tex had already zeroed in on too.

"Well, I know she was the one who took the dress up for Rachel…" Tex answered.

 _Rachel!_

Tom's heart froze. That was the answer he had been looking for. _She was late._ It was all starting to add up…and it wasn't adding up to anything good.

The woman was acting suspiciously…she had been in direct contact with Rachel… _and Rachel was late…_ ** _No!_**

 _Oh God, please let me be being completely paranoid!_

Tex saw when his response clicked with something in the Captain's brain. If it were anyone else, he may even disregarded it, but the sharp instincts of the Captain…

Mike, who had been speaking to somehow not far away, noticed that Tex and the Captain both seemed restless, immediately on alert, he approached.

"Something wrong?" He asked quietly.

"You, with me." Was all Tom said in reply to Mike's question.

"Tex, keep an eye on everything down here. Mike and I are going to look for Rachel."

Tex nodded, but questioned. "Shouldn't we warn the others?"

"Not yet, might be nothing, but don't let that woman out of your sight." Ordered Tom.

Tom prayed that he was wrong, but during all his years as a soldier, his instincts had saved his life many times. They were impossible to ignore at the point, and frankly not advisable to ignore ever.

Discreetly, he and Mike took the elevator up to Rachel's floor.

"What's going?" Mike enquired.

"Be ready." Was Tom's only reply, while taking his gun from the inside of his jacket, Mike soon copied the action.

"Rachel is late, and there is a woman down there acting suspicious who was the last person to see her." He went on to explain.

"Ok." Was all he said. As a police officer he had learned to value ones instincts. If Tom was saying something was wrong, he believed him.

The two men swept the hall to get to Rachel's room, the first and only clue that something was indeed wrong was the door ajar. They entered the room cautiously and swept it. Rachel was not there. She was gone.

Tom cursed out loud. While signs of trouble might be minimal, they all added up to calamitous for Tom.

They quickly examining the room for any trace of evidence that could indicate Rachel's whereabouts. Tom saw a black dress extended on the bed, a note laying face up on top of it that a quick glance showed to be merely a note from the Judge's daughter that came along with the dress. Though he did raise his eyebrow at the last sentence of the woman's short missive.

Continuing to scan the room, he gaze fell upon another piece of white paper, an envelope sitting on the table, in Rachel's handwriting, he noted his own name written upon it. Immediately picking it up and tearing it open, the harsh thought went through his mind that she had deliberately left them, _left him._ That this was her farewell letter to him, that he would never see her again and that was _her choice._

It really could be true, the suspicious behavior of the woman downstairs, who had been the last person to see Rachel, could be because she had _helped_ Rachel get out. She would have needed help. She couldn't have just walked out without being noticed. Where the hell were her guards anyway?

Making a complete mess of tearing the envelope open, he was not met with what he had expected…what he had feared. In his hands now he just held a small stack of scientific reports. He vaguely recognized them as what the President had asked him to get from Rachel. He had avoided getting them…well, because _he had been avoiding Rachel._

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Absentmindedly manhandling the sheets of papers back under control and pocketing them.

But of course the realization that this development did not constitute a relief was fast coming. _She was still gone._ And there, in fact, was no evidence that that had been her choice. There was still the strange behavior of the woman who had last seen her.

This was enough to act and they needed to _act now._

Though for a moment a part of him did briefly despair, the coldest sense of dread descending over him. He knew what their enemies were capable of and he was deathly afraid of what this could mean.

Tom took a deep breath and let his training and experience take over. Right now, Rachel needed the soldier, and that's what he would be. He knew he could not be part of the team that went after her, once the identified a direction in which to search. He was not fully recovered, _not even close,_ he would be more a liability than help. It was the truth but a truth that grated and clashed with his natural desire to chase the action and protect the woman he…

No, now was not the time.

Mike saw the despair on his friend's face, though it was quickly replaced by fierce determination.

"Gather everyone in one room. The President, the children and the guests, post soldiers to protect them. We need to do the sweep the hotel, post guards at all entries, no one enters or leaves, we have to contact the ship, they may try to rescue their leader." Tom ordered, the Commander…no, _the Admiral_ , completely in control now.

In the lobby, the soldiers were getting anxious, working off months and facing danger together, they had learned to identify a situation by their Captain's demeanor. And right now, they could all tell that something was very wrong. Doctor Scotts continued absence had not gone unnoticed either…

Tom began to bark orders as soon as he arrived back in the lobby, and all the soldiers rushed to comply, having been waiting to jump into just such action.

* * *

Sarah had noticed the change in the atmosphere of the room, all the soldiers were whispering to each other. When the Captain reemerged and started shouting orders, she panicked and tried to leave.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry, my dear?" A bearded man suddenly asked her. He appeared from seemingly nowhere, came to stand directly in front of her, blocking her escape.

Sarah despaired. She knew it was all over for her. The man's intense gaze told her very clearly that she was not invisible any longer. She had been caught. There would be no escape for her.

Her family…her baby…

* * *

A sweep of the hotel and Tom's 'intense questioning' of the woman who had last seen Rachel, a woman who broke down in tears spilling everything almost immediately, unearthed exactly what everyone already knew; Dr. Scott was gone… _taken._

Though they now knew the woman, Sarah, had indeed helped in her abduction. She had distressingly retold that she had done it because the man had her son and her sister also held hostage and were threatening to kill both of them. They did have a description of at least one of the believed to be two kidnappers.

Tom divided the soldiers into teams, to protect the President and the kids, and watch the perimeter of the hotel… _the whole perimeter this time_. While Mike led another team to gather information in the city. He sent two rescue teams and a helicopter to search for Rachel. The teams and command were in communication by radio.

One of the city's inhabitants had offered to go along; he knew the area and could be very useful. Tom was reluctant to accept outside help, but this Elijah was retired military, seemed genuine and he his specific knowledge of the area useful, so Tom begrudgingly acquiesced to accept the man's help.

They didn't know it then, but Elijah would be very important to the outcome of these events…and not just those confided to the night that was to come.

One of the groups consisted of Tex, Green and Burk, and the other group consisted of Wolf, Cruz and Miller, along with a handful of other soldiers.

They found the two women that Sarah had tearfully told them of with their throats cut at Sarah's house. They found the bar they had been at that evening. The people at the bar told them that the kidnappers were not from the area and that they had not seen them before that night.

The field teams Alpha, Bird and Tiger reported in the new information, Tom updated the President.

One of the larger ground floor rooms was temporarily converted into a place people could stay for the night, some mattresses were brought down, for those that needed them, the children and the elderly, but sleep was the last thing on most peoples mind. It would be a long night. Soldiers guarded the door. After basically updating, _and placating_ the group, Tom returned to command.

One of the few strokes of luck they had had was a couple arriving late for the event had seen a car screech out of the back parking lot of the hotel at exactly the time they now knew Rachel had been taken. The wife had been able to give little in way of a description of the car other than 'silver', but her husband, thankfully a 'car guy', had been able to give a much more thorough description of the vehicle they now knew must have been the one to carry Rachel from the hotel and supposed safety.

Over the last few hours, what had been a nagging pain in his side, had become an excruciating one. And if he was honest, he had started to feel too hot as well. Though he was loath to admit his growing inadequacy at such a important time, even as the pain grew and clarity of mind ebbed.

Some of them many things Rachel had told him to watch out for following his injury. _This couldn't be happening now._ Rachel's current unknown and highly worrisome wareabouts was enough for Tom to fervently believe that anything going on with him was utterly irrelevant…but his body soon disagreed in fashion that could be ignored no longer.

As he was leaving the room, he suddenly felt very _even more_ lightheaded. The world started spinning, he put a hand out on the wall to steady himself, but only grazed it with the tips of hi fingers, such was his current ability to implement spacial reasoning.

"Captain, are you all right?" One of the soldiers called.

He tried to say yes, he tired to continue to lie, to himself and others, but before he could even get a sound out everything went black and he passed out even before he hit the ground.

His last thought that he was pathetically letting Rachel down. That he could loose her simply because of his own and weakness and failure to stay the course when his actions were truly needed. _When she truly needed him._

* * *

They led the Captain to another room. The doctors found that his stitches had ruptured, and he had a fever.

"We found tire tracks on a parallel road with Elijah's help. The kidnappers do not seem anxious to cover their tracks." Green reported by radio.

"Matches what we know about the immunes, they are arrogant." Answered Mike with disgust.

"Elijah says we can use a detour to intercept the kidnappers, Sir."

"Do it, the other teams will be informed."

"We will keep you updated, sir. Moving out."

Tom woke up in a bed. Dr. Rios and Mike looking down at him, worried.

"What happened? "Tom asked, disoriented and forgetful in his first moments of waking.

"You passed out, Sir. Your wound reopened". Said Rios.

"What news is there of the rescue?" Tom immediately questioned in return, it had only taken a matter of seconds for the full pitiful circumstances and his own personal weakness to hit him with full force. And suddenly he was again completely uninterested in his own condition.

"At last contact with Green they were making a push to try and intercept the kidnappers." Mike answered.

Tom tried to get up, but was prevented by both Mike and Rios.

"You need to rest, sir"

"I am fine, Doctor."

"No sir, you need to allow time for your body to recover."

"Rios is right Captain; I'll keep you informed about the rescue operation."

Tom wanted to fight them but unfortunately his body was screaming at him that they were right, _he did feel very tired and weak._ He tried to prevent it, _fight it with all his might_ , but his eyes grew so heavy all of a sudden and as soon as he lost the battle to keep them open, sleep overtook him once more.

Again his last thought was of his weakness and failure in the face of what would be such a divisive time in his and even the very worlds history… _for better or for worse._ If it was to be for the better, as he preyed it would, it would not be for his actions. For his body was failing him so badly as to make him incapable of any. Rachel was out there and he could do nothing to find her and bring her home, _back to him._ He was useless…

"You sedated him!" Mike accused. Thinking it could be the only explanation for what he had just witnessed. He had watched Tom fight through so much and stay strong and alert throughout. It seemed so strange that now would be the time that ability failed him, _when it was Rachel on the line._ Mike knew well what he was not supposed to know, his friends true and deep feeling for the woman who's continued existence now fell heavily in the balance.

"No Commander, he did not eat or sleep for _several days_ …and in the aftermath of an _, as yet unresolved,_ serious injury. And the tension of the last few hours made it all the worse. He simply pushed his body _beyond_ its limits, and unfortunately gave his immune system too hard a job to manage. He has a fever, a likely sign of infection at the very least. I will need to do an ultrasound to see if the shrapnel has moved, I suspect this is so, depending on the outcome of that, I think it is likely I will have to operate tonight. Something that should have already been done, but as you know, he adamantly refused. Something neither myself or Dr. Scott were none to happy about at the time." The last part was a massive understatement, particularly in regard to Dr. Scott's opinion of the Captain's stubbornness, and Mike knew it.

"He will not like that, not now." Mike stated the obvious. If the worst was to happen this night, Mike knew Tom would never forgive himself if it happened after Tom had had let down his careful watch and protection, as he would see it.

"I realize that but we cannot put his life at further risk, Commander. We simply do not have a choice at this point. He has pushed himself long past a point where he can he remotely useful to anyone. Now he needs to devote all his energies to recovery and frankly, _survival._ Please don't let me underestimate the situation, I very much fear that that particular reality is not completely off the table, now if you excuse me every second is crucial and we really need to move him to the surgery." The surgery being a small close by medical facility that had already been identified as a matter of course as a contingency in preparations.

"All right, keep me informed of his condition." Mike allowed, realising the gravity of the situations they were now facing on two fronts. He also knew that anything but success on both counts would be tragedy for all.

"Yes, sir."

A few minutes later, Green's team spotted the kidnappers car on the road. The forms of two men were visible, and also two women that matched the descriptions of the Sarah's sister, and of course Dr. Scott.

"Rachel is with them?" Tex asked.

"I can't see their faces, but she seems to be. We have to get closer." Shouted Green.

The chase began. The kidnappers began to shoot at them, but the soldiers could not return it for fear of hitting the precious hostages, one in particular.

"We cannot let them get close, they will screw everything up, Jason." Said Frankie.

"I have an idea to delay them." Said Jason.

Then he pointed the gun at Maya, leaned over and opened the door and ordered. "Jump!"

"What?!" She exclaimed, sparing a terrified glance at the fast moving road mere inches from her.

She hesitated in terror but Jason pushed hard on her shoulder. Maya fell from the fast moving vehicle.

Shocked at what he had just witnessed, and with practically no time to act, Green barely avoiding hitting the girl on the road but instead lost control of the wheel and slammed into a tree.

Elijah broke his wrist. The rest of the group was lucky, only bruises and abrasions.

Jason smiled manically when he glanced back and saw how well his plan had worked. So mired in his success was he that he failed to see a car parked on the track ahead of him. He swerved and tried to correct but failed spectacularly and the car flipped and rolled several times, a body was thrown out of the vehicle, and the car burst into flames.

While Green made contact by radio to warn of our situation, the others were checking the bodies on the road.

The woman was bleeding profusely from a chest injury, her leg was at an odd angle, and she had a head injury that also bleeding heavily. They did their best to try to help, but knew it was useless.

The other victim was one of the kidnappers. He was badly injured. The skull tattoo at his wrist was visible.

"She's dead! You guys killed her! The bitch is dead!" He raved the words as he coughed up blood and moments later he too was dead.

It was Tex that made his way to the burning wreck and with horror gazed upon the highly charred form of the last female occupant of the car… Rachel.

Dr. Scott was dead. They had failed.

"The helicopter is on the way, the other team found the boy, hurt, scared, but alive." Said Green.

"Thanks God! At least some good news." Said Burk.

"The Captain passed out, his wound reopened and is infected. And that's not all, the doctors think the shrapnel might have moved, they might need to operate again." Said Green.

"We cannot lose them both, dammit!" Tex was an effective soldier, and was always very humorous, even in the most difficult situations, now he was just steaming with unadulterated rage and it was not as any of them had ever seen the man before. But they all well understood the reason.

The others agreed. The Captain and Dr Scott had started this mission together. They all silently feared the Captain's reaction to this terrible news.

"Dr. Scott lives in every person saved by her vaccine, she lives in all of us." Said Burk.

The Captain's condition worsened and doctors decided it was necessary to operate to remove the shrapnel. For two days, they were afraid he would die. When he was finally stabilized, it was still another three days before he woke, and when he did he was mad as hell.

Upon waking, Tom immediately realized that something was very wrong, the doctors refused to answer any of his questions, just saying he needed to rest.

"I want to see Commander Slattery, now!" He barked.

"Captain, you need your rest."

"What I need is answers, get him now!"

Tom was very much afraid that he knew exactly what everyone's hesitance in answering his questions meant. He knew time had passed, knew Rachel's fate must have been decided by now. With horror he realized that it was not good news that everyone was guarding from him so fiercely. The news was bad, very, very bad, it was the only explanation… Oh, God…

"Get Slattery now! If I have to drag myself to him I will!"

"I'll call him, sir" The nurse relented.

It didn't take long for the other man to arrive and when he did his eyes immediately confirmed the worst.

"How?" Tom demanded in a hard tone.

"Tom…"

"How, Commander?" Rage dripping from his every syllable, it was the only emotion he would allow forward right now.

"There was an accident, the car in which she was in caught fire and…"

Tom's face showed unadulterated horror, Mike halted his explanation.

"Captain...Tom…"

"Are you _sure_?" Tom interrupted.

"She was seen in the car just before the accident…and she was identified by her jewelry that was confirmed by several people as belonging to her…even I recognized it." Mike confirmed sadly.

Mike remembered what the Doctors explanation of how badly burned her body was, how any other forms of identification was utterly impossible. Tom didn't need to hear those details.

"The sister and the boy?" Tom asked blandly, his true emotions already sinking behind an emotionless mask. A defence mechanism.

Mike exhaled in more heavy regret. "They killed the sister, but we found the boy alive."

Mike hesitated.

"Tom, if you want to talk about it…" He started.

"About what?" He returned, voice hard.

Mike nearly backed off, but he didn't. "About Dr. Scott…"

"She is dead, Commander, there is nothing to talk about." He spoke with icy finality.

Before, Tom's eyes had showed pain, horror, anger…

Now there was nothing, they were dead.

* * *

 **TBC**

* * *

 **A/N:** From both of us, thank you for the support/reviews/follows/favs. They are very nice to receive. :-)


	4. Accepting The Loss

**Grief typically goes through five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Accepting the Loss**

* * *

After the conversation with his father, Tom felt like an idiot. He had spent weeks successfully evading and running away from the well-meaning conversations and his father could make him shout after only a few sentences.

After her death, he did not want to feel, think and especially talk about it. He just wanted to forget. He did not see the accident, but his imagination provided him with every detail in vivid technicolor.

The nightmares began soon after, they were so bad that he was afraid to sleep, began working himself to exhaustion, and then working even more. It was effective, being to tried and busy to even think. Tom ignored the advice of doctors who said he should slow down, that he had undergone surgery and nearly died.

Not for the first time he wondered why her death caused him so much pain. They didn't have a relationship. They had not been lovers. _Because you were a coward._ The voice of his conscience provided.

Maybe that was exactly the reason for his pain. With his wife, with Darien, he had memories, children, a story to put on the shelf of his memory. With her...with Rachel, the name both bitter and sweet, he could only imagine what a life with her would have been like. How he would have hugged her, kissed her without subterfuge, made love to her for the first time. By imagining that beautiful future, the loss of it became all the more painful.

Three weeks, and it was still hard to believe she was gone. He pretended not to notice the worried looks his friends sent his way. Mike, Jeter and Tex were the only ones brave enough to _attempt_ to talk to him.

On the outside he looked fine, the perfect soldier, efficient and in control. Inside there was a war raging between the fire of wrath and the protective ice that numbed his heart. Tom feared loosing the reins of his emotions, because the volcano inside him could blow up and destroy everything in its path.

Now his family was here with him again, his children needed him, he knew it was time to say goodbye to Rachel. Even has his soul rebelled against the thought, his being reverberating in familiar pain.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter he had carried since that tragic day, but had never had the courage to read. He had hurriedly and unwittingly opened it back on that frightful night, his fear at the time that it was her deliberate goodbye letter to him.

Back then he had failed to see what it really was, what had been hiding in the stack of scientific papers that had caused him to write off the entire contents of the envelope as unimportant to his search. And in truth in had been unimportant to his search at that time.

The personal letter that he later found amongst the papers that had hidden it was _not_ her deliberate goodbye letter to him, it was her _accidental_ goodbye letter to him …whatever it actually said.

When he had first discovered it so soon after learning of her death he had not been able to prevent himself from looking away. Hot tears appearing in his eyes as he read her first words to him from the grave. Just that first sentence enough to have him bawling like a child, thankfully he had been alone on that occasion when he has completely failed to control his then fresh grief.

And in all the time since he had not been able to bring himself to return to reading that letter, and yet he had not being able to let it go either, he carried it everywhere with him.

His curiosity and desire to read her last words to him, regardless if they carried anything from affection to infuriation, even though he truly didn't know which would be worse at this point, was no match for his fear of reading them… _or rather them having been read. Past tense._

That state that would exist after he read her last word, the state that would be his entire future, the state where Rachel Scott would never have another word left to say to him so long as he lived. While her last words were unread, it was like she was still alive waiting for them to be realized, but after, even that last whisper of her consciousness would be gone forever.

Irrationally he believing that reading the letter was the same as accepting her death, and facts be damned he just couldn't seem to bring himself to do that. She didn't feel dead, even though the hole in his empty soul seemed to disagree.

But with his children return to him he realized that he could not continue to live as the ghost he had been, _for their sake._ He had to force himself to action, to the first steps of healing. And he knew innately that reading the self forbidden letter in his hand was the first stage of that. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, opened the already torn envelope and with both reverence and will power, began to read.

 ** _Tom_**

 _I decided to call you so because firstly, I consider you a friend. You believed in me, protected me from some very dangerous situations, and in doing so realized how stubborn I am._

 _I never liked to depend on anyone emotionally because it scares me, but with you it happened so naturally._

 _We made a good team, you and me, without your support and encouragement, (Offering me a Bengal tiger! You sure know how to make a girl feel special.) there would be no cure. We disagreed sometimes, but I think that is more because we are so alike in temperaments, as opposed to too different._

 _I admire you, Tom, I really do. So I tried to live up to your expectations, but it got me to stretch my limits, to push boundaries, to make wrong decisions. I am not blaming you; I made the decision to kill Niels, my desire for revenge was part of it I admit, but mainly it was the guilt that I carry over the deaths of so many that made me take that drastic action. The families the crew… your wife…_

 _It hurt, hurt a lot, more than I could have imagined. The contempt and disappointment in your eyes when I admitted to killing Niels. I tried to tell myself it did not matter, but I was lying._

 _War has the ability to reveal the good that is in us, but it also brings out our darker sides. You have this strong moral compass, a deep desire to do right; it is an important part of who you are. You should never doubt your convictions, Tom._

 _Our relationship has been made of successes, failures, farewells and reunions._

 _In my heart, you will always have a special place, not only as a friend, but also perhaps as something else ... if you allow. However, I know you are not ready, yet. That does not stop me from loving you_.

 _You are a good man, Thomas Chandler. You have features worthy of admiration, your ability to care for your crew, well beyond the relationship of Captain and soldier, your tenacity, your talent for command, and your love for your family._

 _I leave tomorrow. I am hoping that this is not goodbye._

 _Take care of yourself._

 _Rachel Scott._

 ** _Oh, God. Rachel!_**

 _..that doesn't stop me from loving you…_

 ** _She loved me!_**

 _She wanted more…and now she was gone forever._

Tears fell freely for several long minutes, several loud anguished sobs also escaped. They could not be held within. When he had no more tears to shed, when he had let his grief at all that could have been but would never be overtake him, and run its course, he came out the other side with a very difficult decision made.

 _I do not feel like the good man you believed me to be, Rachel, but to honor your memory I will try to be…_

* * *

Jed was waiting for Tom when he got home, preoccupied; afraid he would not be able to help.

He watched his son sit as if carrying the world on his shoulders. He looked exhausted, and not just physically.

"The kids?" Tom questioned.

"They're asleep, your friend Tex tired them both out."

"I need to thank him for taking care of them. Caring for Sam and Ashley is my job." He stated sadly.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier, Dad." He continued.

"Don't worry about it, Tom. I know you are still suffering over Rachel."

Tom paused for a long moment, drawing in and releasing a deep resigned breath, then he spoke…

"You're right, Dad." He admitted softly.

"I feel guilty for being in love with Rachel. It has only been a few months since I lost Darien, I feel like I am cheating on her. Though now I feel guilty for _not_ acting on the feelings that I believed might have been returned, and now I have that confirmation that they were. I _loved_ her, Dad. And she loved me…and now I've lost her too."

There was so much pain in his son's confession, that for a moment, Jed wished Tom was a child and that he could protect him from the world.

"The pain will subside with time, son."

"I know, Dad, but the pain seems excruciating, now. I have been denying her death for a month now. But she it is… _dead…"_ The word still hurt to enunciate. "Denying it will not change the facts." He finished sadly.

"What made you change your mind?" Jed wondered aloud.

"You, the children ... and Rachel."

"Rachel?" Jed questioned, confused as to how the cause of his son's anguish could also be the solution to it.

"She left me a letter, Dad." He disclosed the secret that he had literally kept close to his breast for a month now.

"That must have been one hell of a letter!" Jed exclaimed.

Tom nodded. "Rachel says I'm a good man and tells me to keep my convictions. She believes in me. She is always able to tell me when I'm acting like a jerk."

Jed realized that Tom was referring to Rachel as if she were still alive.

"Tom, you keep referring to Rachel in the present tense."

Tom realized his father was right.

"I know, Dad. I can't seem to help it. In my head I know she's gone but in my heart I can't help feeling something very different. I guess I just need time, Dad. _Even more_ time on that score.

"Just remember I'm here for, son." Was all Jed said after a pause. What else could he say?

"Thanks, Dad." Tom's gratitude was genuine. "It's late, Dad. We both need to get some sleep."

"Go ahead, I'm just going to get a glass of water."

Tom nodded. "Night, Dad."

"Night, son."

Jed watched Tom make his way up the stairs and sighed in relief. Thank God! Finally he felt like his son was going to be ok.

Not for the first time in the last month, Tom dreamed of Rachel, but this time was somehow different, _she_ was different, she had shorter hair, like he had never seen her. She called to him…desperately.

 ** _"Find me, Tom!"_**

"Rachel!" Tom screamed her name as he awoke, answering her call in the darkness. The dream continued to greatly disturb him into his sleepless morning hours. It had felt so real, but aspects of it had been so conflictingly unfamiliar at the same time.

Still, even knowing it could only have been a dream, why could he not discard the notion that she had really called out to him?

That she was really still waiting for him to do what he had failed to do in the first place, rescue her. So large part of him longed for such an impossible second chance. But it was impossible, he reminded himself.

But his dream had been so real… _she_ _had been so real._

 _…Find me, Tom…_

The words continued to echo in his waking consciousness, and did not cease when sleep eventually returned to him barely before the dawn.

 ** _…Find me, Tom…_**

* * *

 **TBC**


	5. Lost and Found

**The end of hope is the beginning of death (Charles de Gaulle)**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Lost and Found**

* * *

They abandoned the child, saying that the brat had served his purpose. Maya was desperate, she feared that her nephew would be hurt, being abandoned at night in the middle of nowhere all alone. But soon she realized that the fate was the far better of several evils laid out in front of them now, and so ceased to argue her nephews abandonment.

She of course begged to be allowed to go free with him, but it was useless. Here kidnappers seemed to have a very specific reason to continue to keep her captive, and she shuddered at the numerous possibilities her terrified mind helpfully presented her with. For herself she feared it was hopeless, but for her nephew she preyed he would be found by far kinder souls than her captors. At least away from them he might stand a chance.

After two hours they stopped near an abandoned house, there was a woman bound and gagged inside of the house.

"Hello _Lizzy_ , did you miss us?" The older brother taunted the terrified woman.

The woman, Elisabeth, was a very similar age, height and build to Rachel. She also had brown eyes and hair like Rachel, though hers was only shoulder length. By way of general attributes they were quite similar, but you'd never mistake them up close.

Still, upon seeing the tethered stranger who bared her similar physical traits, Rachel got an even sicker feeling in the bit of her stomach than the one that had been there since the whole thing started.

Her heart went out to the poor woman, another poor stranger who had been dragged into this _because of her,_ she was sure.

Just then, Jason turned and approached Rachel with a knife; He had several knives, and he seemed to have an unhealthy attachment to all of them. He immediately grabbed Rachel by the hair and set about using the sharp blade to ruthlessly cut chunk of it away.

Rachel didn't protest, not only was she sure injury by the hastily moving blade would swiftly follow her movement, but her hair was the least of her worries right now. And right now she was more concerned by the fact that the action seemed to confirm the sick feeling she had gotten when she first entered the room and set eyes on her slight doppleganger.

The evil man who had clearly enjoyed viciously cutting her hair too much, then proceeded to deliberately made a cut on her arm when he was finished. She watched him soak a handkerchief with her blood and put it in his pocket. "Pity that I cannot cut your clothes off too… " He drawled lasciviously, his eyes undressing her up and down.

Rachel knew the man had plans, and the sick interest that was clearly visible in his eyes was clearly not first on his agenda, _though she'd bet it was on it._ She could tell because he seemed to be restraining his desires… _just._ And he did not strike Rachel as a man to be restrained in his sick and selfish desires _ever_.

Rachel began to understand what they were planning, the handkerchief deliberately stained with her blood and kept was a clue, Elizabeth herself was a bigger one, along with the violent and lacklustre attempt to make there hair also seem the same. And unfortunately, the maniac's next words confirmed Rachel's already dawning suspicions.

"Take your clothes off, Doctor!" Ordered Jason.

"There's no way I'll do it!" Answered Rachel stubbornly. Unlike when his eyes were undressing her for purely personal pleasure, a taste of what he planned would come, now he had himself under control and was all about his plan again.

The order to remove her clothes, though terrifying still, had more to do with the continued endeavour to create the terrified strange woman as her. Though that didn't mean the bastard wasn't enjoying every minute of the show he was forcibly directing. Rachel wasn't sure she could obey the order _and_ keep her last meal down, as sickening was the notion of undressing before these evil men was.

The younger brother still held Maya, and Rachel watched as Jason walked over to her and this time put a gun to Maya's head. "Do what I say, or I'll blow her brains out right now." He stated impatiently, as if she were an errant child having the consequences of her misdeeds laid out before her by a cold and harsh parent.

He had already used Maya before, to get her cooperation. Rachel knew she had no alternative but to do as commanded. She had known it before she refused actually, but still the refusal had been instinctual.

Rachel started to slowing strip herself of her garments, she felt so horribly exposed. Tears threatened, but she held them at bay. She would not give these monsters the satisfaction of seeing her cry from the humiliation they were causing her.

She thought about her friends, the people she hoped were still her friends, or would be… _could have been_ …one day. She thought about Tom. She thought about how he wound find her, humiliated, abused and…

She forced herself to put all thoughts of such aside. They would not help her get through this, especially with her dignity intact. And those thoughts made heavy sobs threaten mercilessly.

And she darn't even hope that rescue was fast approaching at this time. They had gotten her out of the hotel cleanly, and driven for hours. It would have been hours, at minimum, before an alarm would have been raised. And that was only if her absence at the gala was missed at all. It might easily be assumed that she was too ashamed to show her face at such a prestigious event after her so recent disgrace.

Putting such unhelpful thoughts aside, she continued to obey her captors despicable order. Soon she stood in only in her flimsy bra and panties. At that point Rachel stopped and prayed that she would not be required to disrobe further… _at least yet._ Jason looked at her smiling malevolently, in a way that made Rachel's blood run cold in her veins, but he thankfully _did not_ order her to keep going.

 _Mercy of infinitely small mercies._ She thought to herself.

During a violent situation, one person may keep their cool; another may panic, while a third might faint. Three different ways to deal with the same situation of intense stress, demonstrating three different temperaments, three different stories and three different lives.

Rachel had experienced difficult situations before, had worked in war zones, these experiences gave her more resilience to deal with her current situation. Not that she wasn't scared of course, on the contrary she was terrified and she knew that this situation was already vastly out of her control. But no good would come of showing and giving her captors the satisfaction of knowing her true deep fear.

What she hated most was the harsh reality that the lives of these other two woman were in danger that she was also helpless to relieve them from, _also because of her._

Maya barely spoke, except when the kidnappers had abandoned her nephew, but every human being had their breaking point, and their captors were pushing Maya particularly close to the edge of hers.

Jason, clearly thoroughly enjoying everything about the current situation, three helpless woman at his non-existent mercies, harshly kissed Maya's on the lips, Maya reacted kicking, scratching, biting, but was restrained quickly and easily.

Rachel could do nothing with Frankie pointing a gun at her, and it was like that was exactly the reality that Jason was taunting her with.

Jason untied Elizabeth before forcing her at gunpoint to dress in Rachel's clothes, and even put on all her jewelry.

"Perfect, they will never notice the difference." Said Jason, observing Elizabeth in her new outfit.

"Put that on!" Jason ordered, throwing Rachel a simple cotton dress, the one Elizabeth had been wearing.

Rachel followed that order quickly, overly desperate to be clothed again, and she knew her desperation showed. Though she had barely got the dress over her head when she was shoved into the chair Elizabeth had vacated and tied to it.

No sooner was she secured than each man took a woman each and left. Rachel screamed after them, fruitlessly begging them not to do the no doubt despicable thing they planned to with the two helpless woman who had been caught up in this.

They ignored her, save for laughs and promises to return and have their fun with her later. Left alone and very much _not_ wanting to be here when the men returned to fulfil their promise, Rachel visually examined the space she had been left in. It was a small room, there was a table, two chairs, a sofa against the wall, books on a shelf, it was probably once the office of the old house. The place had a very well used feel to it and everything she gazed upon was well worn at best, and quite decrepit and dirty at worst feel about it.

From what she had seen coming in and the fact that all their cries had been met with silence, Rachel was fairly sure there was no one else anywhere nearby, either potential friend or foe. Bad news, no help to be had. Good news, she could be as loud as she wanted getting the hell out of here.

She sought for something that she could use to escape her bonds. She had a gag over her mouth and her hands were tied behind her back, some testing confirmed that the ties had been unfortunately very well executed. She would never pull or struggle herself free.

Then she saw something, a knife sticking out from under the couch, only the handle was visible. It must have fallen when Maya attacked Jason. In her excitement at an actually plan, _bad plan_ , but plan nonetheless, Rachel shook the chair from side to side a few times to gather momentum and then used all her weight and force to throw herself and the chair on the floor in the direction of the knife and the means of salvation.

She landed hard. _Very hard._

 _Great! Just what I lacked…a concussion._ Rachel thought.

She managed to awkwardly manoeuvre herself to where she could just grasp the knife. She began to try and use the blade to cut the ropes, but ended up cutting herself just as much in the process. After several attempts, she finally managed to cut the ropes around her hands free, but her wrists were a mess, though thankfully nothing dangerously deep. She quickly used the knife to unbind her legs, they had been bound tightly as well and she had to struggle to get her ankles free. They were not released unscathed either in her struggles but eventually she was free and made her first attempts to try and stand.

She soon realized her self sarcastic diagnosis of a concussion was actually right on the money. Though she could pick which head injury had caused it. The world spun and Rachel cursed. So much energy she had put into unbinding herself that she had thought no further and right now she felt like it was all she could do to keep from hitting the floor again.

She was tired, faint, bleeding and had an unbelievably splitting headache. Rachel barely managed to stand for a few seconds before the world spun, nausea rose and she lost her footing while attempting to stand still. She tripped on a leg of the upturned chair she had just escaped from and and fell, hitting her head _again_ , on the nearby table. Rachel fought to remain conscious but lost the battle barely before she had begun it.

* * *

The woman woke confused, with a horrible throbbing pain in her head, and the rest of her body not feeling much better. Looking around at the unfamiliar and shabby room she found herself in, she shuddered with dread for a reason she could not name. She felt a deep urgency to leave the place she found herself. Even without knowing the reason for her fear she found herself fleeing the house and venturing headless into the dark unlit night.

Outside she found the faintest silhouettes of many unfamiliar trees, but little else. She really appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, though it was admittedly hard to tell. She had the thought that she risked getting lost, venturing away from the only structure she knew and into the darkness alone, but she quickly discarded the notion of returning.

The seemingly endless blackness was an infinitely better option that returning to the only indoors she remembered…though again she didn't know _why_ that was, _but know it she did._ So she continued to walk, _'away'_ from that place was her only plan, and as fast as she could walk too, not that that was very fast.

She stumbled much, partly for the darkness, and partly for her own imperfect condition.

As she walked she did note that she was not well at all. Her body was injured and abused, her head throbbing to a terribly painful tune, several times she stopped and wretched, her stomach that had held little to start with was empty before long.

Try as she might she could not recall how her body had come to be in such a state, which left questions as to how her _mind had come to also be so lacking…_

After walking for many hours, she was stumbling more often than not. Her legs were tired and weak. She had even more scrapes and bruises from her many impacts with the ground and unseen trees and shrubs. The pain in her head reaching unbearable levels, the wrenching had _not_ helped it, and tears of both pain and desolation were streaking down her cheeks now.

She was getting more and more dizzy, going on was getting more difficult with every step. And yet onwards further was what the remnants of her faculties ordered her to do.

She had to keep going, but she surmised that she needed some rest, had no choice but to rest, but for just a few minutes…

Just a few…

Only a few…

Then she would go on…

She would keep going…

She had to keep going…

Dropping more than sitting, headless of where she was planting herself, she curled herself into a fetal position. Instinctively seeking to preserve her body heat and protect her battered form from further harm. She fell into unconscious, be it to sleep or something else, almost instantly.

Much more time than minutes had passed when she awoke. It was day was the first observation her sluggish mind made, the second was that she was being licked in the face by a large dog.

* * *

"Husky, come back boy, what did you find?"

Jake approached his wayward dog, and was shocked to find him crouched beside a hurt and frightened woman.

Though her legs trembled, he watched as the woman struggled to her feet.

"Easy, I will not hurt you. My name is Jake, what's your name?"

The woman was silent, just staring at him for several long moments. Her attention seemed split, she seemed to be considering herself as much as she was him. Eventually she seemed to come to the decision to answer him, though apparently she had not been able to find the answer she was looking for within herself.

"I…I do not know…I… don't remember." She rubbed her bloody head, confused at her own inability.

Jake pondered the strange woman for only a moment before enacting the only course of action that he could possibly take, given the reality that his morning walk had presented him with.

"Why don't you come with me, Lass? My wife Elena is a nurse, she can take care of you."

She looked at Jake with caution; the dog came over again and licked her hand. He was a chocolate brown Labrador, with soft, intelligent eyes. Instincts had got her as far as they had, and while some might say spending the night sleeping in a ditch was not the wisest course for an injured woman… _or anyone for that matter,_ she… _whoever she was_ …was happy with her decision to abandon that horrid place that was the first memory she could actually remember.

Her instinct told her now that she could trust in this dog's owner. She had naught else to go on, besides the seeming genuineness of that man and his kind eyes, so she decided to listen to her instincts. Besides, the throbbing in her head that had returned with a vengeance the moment she had first moved told her that perhaps medical treatment was not such a bad idea.

She nodded her head very gingerly in agreement and slowly they made their way to Jake's house.

When she tired quick, she even allowed the strange man to support her as they walked. She had the thought that she was being too trusting with this strange man, and at a time when she felt it likely than a man had been the one to hurt her to start with…not that she could state her reasoning.

But between her instincts and her very limited number of options, she decided to stick with her decision and hope this man was genuine in his offer to help her…she really did need help right now.

It helped that the dog she already felt an affinity with stayed close by her side the whole journey.

* * *

 **TBC**


	6. Internal Mazes

**It is impossible to imagine our day-to-day without the constant action the memory. Without it it is like being born again every minute. (Leandro Teles)**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Internal Mazes**

* * *

The woman had no memories of her past, her mind was blank, but she did have a recurring dream. A dream of her…and a man.

The dream always started out the same way, she was alone, in a desolate and icy region, and she was not at all wearing appropriate clothing for it, merely a long black lacey dress. She felt the biting cold that numbed her extremities, she felt the loneliness and fear that she would never see anyone she loved ever again.

Then _he_ would appear in the distance, dressed in a Navy uniform and the landscape suddenly changes into a beautiful garden. In an instant the biting cold turns to splendid warmth and she can feel the softness of the leaves under her bare feet, see a lake of mirror still waters, in which beautiful fluffy clouds were clearly reflected.

She can see it all, but cannot reach it, implicitly trusting the stranger, she follows him to a maze in the center of the garden. He stops at the entrance, his bright blue eyes are like pure fire aimed at her and she feels loved and protected in their gaze. He extends his hand in silent invitation, but her feet cannot move and… the maze opening suddenly closes. Branches intertwining to trap him inside, while she is left outside and alone once more. As her view of him recedes the last thing she sees is his lips moving, she tries desperately to make out his words, but they are barely inaudible to her.

And she wails out loud for the stranger she is losing, having only just found.

Rebecca always wakes feeling alone and always with the same words screaming in her own mind.

 ** _Find me_**.

* * *

She had that strange dream again. Unlike what was commonplace for dreams, she could always remember the details of the dream, all of them except for one; she can never remember the man's face. But she always very clearly remembers the sense of security and love when he is near.

She knows she will not get back to sleep again, so she decides to get up, she can see through the window the first rays of sun on the horizon, which stream through gaps in clouds. She gets dressed, makes her way downstairs quietly, and goes to the stables. Riding always calms her tumultuous thoughts. On her way, she admires all the new dew droplets watering the grass, she happily breathes in the fresh scent.

As time had passed and her injuries had healed she had come to a level of acceptance with the condition that had not healed, her memory, and she had found herself able, and indeed it necessary, to still find some moments of joy in her seemingly eternally uncertain existence. But it was not always so. Her first days at Jake and Elena's house had passed in a haze of pain and utter despair; her woeful physical condition and her many assumed but unknown terrible experiences and losses enough to have her finding little joy in her painful and forever unfamiliar existence…

* * *

"How is she?" Asked Jake worriedly, looking at the woman in the bed. Elena had cleaned her wounds and changed her bloody clothes.

"She seems better, but that head injuries still worries me."

"She wasn't…?" He broke off before completing the sentence, not wanting to put voice to the question, but worried about its possibility nonetheless.

Elena immediately understood what her husband was asking.

''No, _thank God_! However, whoever did this to her caused her great pain, she has at least three separate injuries to her head. Thankfully none to grievous by themselves, but the combination does worry me. And then there are countless more minor abrasions and bruises all over her body." The woman had been with them for four days and in that time she had lost and regained consciousness numerous times. Though it couldn't really be said that during any of her conscious moments that she had ever really 'come out of it', on the contrary she had well and truly 'stayed in it'.

The both turned as suddenly, and yet again, the woman on the bed began to scream. _"No! No!... don't cut me ... don't kill me ...find me! please! Find me…"_

Elena tried to calm her down, but the wild eyes and posture indicated that she was still stuck in her nightmare and wasn't hearing a word she was saying.

Jake knew she needed something or someone she could trust, who gave her a sense of security, he remembered the dog had calmed her before and went to get him.

Jake still couldn't believe that the woman he had found had come to be in this house, actually partially under her own steam, though he had been supporting most of her weight by the end of their short journey, she had still walked! But almost immediately upon their arrival and being introduced to his kind faced wife, the mystery woman had taken a turn for the worse.

His wife had explained that this was possible, even that is was _good_. His wife always could find the positive in any situation. She explained that the woman had likely been running on adrenaline when he found her. It had allowed her to push on past her grave injuries by means of a base survival mechanism that all people have, and that comes out under such terrible both physical and emotional stress. But upon coming to their home and feeling safe for the first time in who know how long, she had ceased to fight and had thus fallen to the true, previously hidden, nature of her injuries.

"Hey." He spoke in a soft voice. "Say hello to our guest, Husky."

The dog came over and licked her fingers, slowly her eyes opened, and her vision came into focus. A dogs loveable face appeared and she started to pat the animal softly, showing herself to be as awake an aware as they had seen her in the last four days.

Elena smiled at her husband, eminently pleased at their victory.

"Honey, can you tell me your name?" Elena questioned, _not for the first time._

"I …don't know, I don't …I can't remember." She said starting to panic…again.

"Okay, it's fine, don't worry, dear. My name is Elena, this is my husband Jake, and this is Husky." She introduced, again, not for the first time.

"Can you tell me a name, any name, we might call you, dear?"

The woman just stared and searched for several long moments, but eventually she spoke.

"Rebecca..." She replied hesitantly, not at all sure why that name had been the first to pop into her mind when she had set about searching, pleading, for any name to come to her.

"Ok, we will call you Rebecca for now. And who knows? Maybe it really is your name. It was the first to come to you, think about it, there could well be a reason for that. Maybe your memories are not gone at all, just laying a little while beneath the surface waiting for the right time to rise up again." She spoke kindly.

* * *

Rebecca hadn't been at all convinced then and honestly she felt even less optimistic now. Her memories did not feel close, buried beneath a surface she could not breach, they felt nonexistent. But Rebecca had given the seemingly very gentle and caring woman and small nod and smile.

Gradually she had gotten better, her physical wounds at least had slowly healed. Eventually, barely and trace of them was left to be found upon her body, but her mind remained empty of past memories and a prisoner of her nightmares. Nightmares that served as the only clue that she might have had a life before she had awoken in a pool of her own blood.

Jake and Elena had become her good friends through it all. Jake and his expressive grey eyes, his understanding and patience with her. He always seemed to know exactly what she needed. When she woke him in the middle of the night with her nightmares, he would just take her out to the balcony to stargaze. To feel the breeze and listen to the melodic sounds of nocturnal nature. He ensured that she was safe, felt like her real but forgotten enemies would not return... that she was safe with them…he assured her of it, and gradually she came to believe it.

When she was strong enough, Elena had taken her horseback riding. And now, when she had to deal with the frustrations of a life without a past, she would go riding still.

Rebecca was brought back to the present at the sounds of approaching hooves, she smiled; Elena had come looking for her.

* * *

Elena approached Rebecca. She had been with them for just over two months now, her wounds were almost completely healed, but still her memory has not showed the slightest sign of returning to guide her.

Elena knew that Rebecca liked this specific place on the property, a tree next to the river. Elena dismounted and went to sit down beside her. "I thought I would find you here. You're worried again, I can tell, that will not help your recovery, Rebecca."

Elena lived up to what Rebecca had learned was the meaning of her name, the kindness inherent in her shone like a beacon in the darkness. She was a very pretty woman, in her mid fifties with short brown wavy hair and beautifully expressive deep blue eyes.

"I've been here for more than two months and my memory has still not returned, not even close! I still don't have the slightest clue who I am! I don't even know if I was a good or bad person, what if I did something bad to deserve this? What if I never recover my memory?" Rebecca bemoaned in a moment of weakness and self-pity.

"You will remember, Rebecca, you have to believe that, and you are _not_ a bad person, of that I have no doubt. We like you, a lot, Jake and I…and Husky." The dog barked and Elena smiled. "Husky agrees. And all of us, we are all excellent judges of character." Elena smiled serenely at her convenient self compliment.

Elena's husband, Jake, was in his late fifties, a bit taller than his wife, had just as expressive grey eyes and a small scar above his left one. Apparently, according to Elena, he could be as short tempered as a bear in company that was not to his liking. But Rebecca couldn't testify to that, for with her and his wife, he was always been kindness and patience personified.

The nearest evidence that Rebecca had as to Elena's assurances of the existence of the other side of her husbands temperament had been after an unpleasant thumb and hammer incident. And indeed that hammer had caught a fair amount of rage, but none had been directed at the two of them, and it had dissipated fast enough.

"I do love Husky, you have been amazing to me and your husband has been so sweet as well." Rebecca stated with confidence and gratitude.

"Sweet… are you sure that you are talking about my husband? He can be exceptionally stubborn and it is impossible to make him change his mind once he has made it."

Rebecca smiled. "But you love him." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, I love Jake, after all the work I had to conquer him, he will not get rid of me that easy. I practically had to order him into marriage."

Having a front row seat to witness Elena and Jake's adoring and highly enviable relationship over the last several months, it had been impossible for Rebecca to not be left wondering… _hoping_ … that someone was out there waiting for her. Someone that would come for her and make her feel a wholeness she could never remember having ever felt. But one that she believes she had witnessed at times when looking upon Jake and Elena's confident love.

Or on her darker days, wondering if that person was already dead…or had never existed in the first place? She wasn't even sure which was worse… It those thoughts and fears that held her concentration far more frequently that she thought they ought. She honestly couldn't begin to rationalize why she held those specific fears, out of the the wonderments she could have about her mystery life before the day she woke in so much pain and fear. And yet her nonexistent love life did indeed hold her attention, and frequently, at the very same time, she would be inexplicably reminded of the faceless man of her dream…

Elena saw the sadness in Rebecca's eyes.

"Are you okay, Honey?"

She didn't speak immediately. Needed to pull herself out of her self-pitying remembrances and into the present.

"I had that dream again, but I still can't see his face, remember it when I wake, maybe he's dead…"

"Or maybe he's alive and looking for you. Do not give up! I believe that you have the faith and the hope to continue trying."

Rebecca smiled the warmest smile she could manage in her current tumultuous mindset, she really didn't know if she believed her friend, and even if she did, she wasn't sure how much longer she could go on hoping for what did not come.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Elena. I am so very grateful to you." And that at least was the absolute truth.

"It has been our pleasure, my dear. Now, the day is getting on, let's get us back home or else Jake will come looking for us."

Rebecca smiled and nodded to her friend, a tiny tear escaping the corner of her lashes as her face crinkles slightly. But at least, Rebecca rationalized to herself, she could say that the tear held some small bit of joy within it for the wonderful friends she had found, rather than only the sadness of the perpetual unknown.

* * *

TBC


	7. A Visitor

Chapter 7: A Visitor

* * *

Jake was back at the house, awaiting the arrival of an old friend he had not seen for months, though he had communicated with the man by radio more recently. First contact had been a reason for celebration, learning that a friend from the old world had survived into the new.

Elena and Rebecca had left earlier, separately, and neither were back yet, and Jake could admit that he was concerned. Not for any good reason, other than that the world was a dangerous place now. And Jake was always infinitely more at ease when both woman were in his sights these days. Speaking of dangerous, he saw someone approaching. He grabbed his gun, just in case, just in case the visitor was not the one that was expected. When the visitor came closer Jake the gun smiled at his old friend.

The man waking towards the house was tall, around sixty years old, with gray hair and green eyes.

"You going to shoot me, Jake?" The visitor asked smiling.

"It's good to see you, old friend." Said Jake.

They embraced in a manly fashion, neither admitting that there was as much emotion and relief behind the action as there really was. They then moved to sit on the porch together and proceeded to catch up on a great deal that had occurred since they had last seen each other.

"You have to live so far away, Jake? We could have done this months before now."

With a broken wrist Elijah could not travel easily in this new world, certainly not long distances. It had delayed this visit greatly. And Jake had been loathed to leave his wife and property, and then Rebecca too, to make the journey himself.

Apart from a genuine desire to see each and catch up, the reason for Elijah's visit was the delivery of vaccines. He could have sent the vaccine with someone else, but he knew Jake would not have liked that. He had maintained radio contact with them, so he knew his friends were okay.

"I like the peace of the countryside, isolation has kept us safe from the disease." Jake stated resolutely.

"I brought the vaccine, Jake." Elijah handed him a small zip case. Jake cautiously unzipped the case and saw that contained within it were two small syringes filled with blue liquid.

Obtaining a few of the newly produced, but old version of the cure, had been the only option for him to bring it to his friends, as neither he nor anyone he knew that might have accompanied him on this little trip were capable of spreading the contagious cure any longer.

"These things safe?" Jake was suspicious of the objects in his hands.

"I took it and I am as healthy as a horse, and most importantly, I'm completely immune to the virus. That's been put to the test many a time at this point." He had in fact become vaccinated by the contagious version of the venerated Dr. Scott's cure, but he had every confidence that this stuff was just as good, had it on many a good friends very good authority.

Jake didn't need to know and become worried by the semantics of it all.

Though Jake did not seem completely convinced anyway.

"Where is Elena?" Elijah knew that his wife could convince him.

"Probably with our guest, Rebecca." Jake answered absently.

"You have a guest?" Elijah asked, surprised.

"Yeah, we found her two months ago. She was very badly injured. Very bad, it was touch and go there for a while…but she's a lot better now, at least physically…"

"What happened to her?"

"We don't know, but she had cuts, grazes, rope marks on her wrists and ankles, her hands and feet were a bloody mess, her hair looked like it had been cut with a butcher's knife, worst of it all were _several_ bad head injuries. We considered trying to get her to better help but there was still the threat of the virus and Elena thought it would be too risky in her condition to travel anyway."

Elijah nodded in thought, taking in the information. Torture, he thought…and at least some length of captivity to boot. It seemed this woman was well recovered of her physical injuries now, he hoped the same was true of her doubtless emotional ones.

"How is she going mentally? Torture's not easy for anyone but I can't even imagine a woman going through something as bad as what you're describing. How is she coping with what happened to her? Does she know who did that to her? Does she know why?"

"She doesn't know any of it, doesn't remember any of it, and that's not all…she doesn't even remember her own name…not her real one anyway. Complete amnesia Elena says, due to the head injuries and quite possibly the emotional trauma as well."

" _Really_?" Elijah was shocked by the news, it was more like something you used to see happening all the time on television shows…but rarely to anyone you actually knew of in reality.

"And she's been with you for two months you say? We've talked by radio over than time, you never said anything about her." Elijah was curious about that, this was such shocking news to him as he had thought he and his friend had been staying up to date with each other.

"We had no intention of risking her safety by mentioning her or disclosing her location on an open channel. We _will not_ have her hurt again. Whoever those monsters were that did this to her, they _will not_ get another chance, _I promise you that_!" Jake ground out his oath.

Wow! Elijah thought, this woman sure aroused a fierce protective instinct of his friend. It couldn't be for the usual reasons; Jake was a very happily married man. It made Elijah all the more eager to meet this real live mystery woman.

"How are things in the city?" It was Jake who changed the subject, probably feeling the need to let his anger cool off a bit. Elijah followed his friend's lead, not disagreeing with the idea.

"Well, the military remain in the city; they decided to make it a base for their operations. They are producing the vaccine and trying to combat the Immunes." Elijah explained.

"You told me about them, idiots who think they're God's chosen!" Utter disgust was evident in Jake's tone.

"If I were them, I would be damn careful…and frankly scared to death. Admiral Thomas Chandler has committed himself to annihilating them off the face of the planet, he made it his personal crusade after they killed Rachel Scott."

"She's the woman who made the cure, right? And that's why they went after her?"

"Yeah, by saving so many people she made it so natural immunes just weren't that special anymore…they didn't like that much."

"Bastards!" Jake exclaimed. Right then and there Jake decided he was no longer so suspicious of the syringes he held in his hand. This fallen woman seemed like a goddamn hero and if she had given her life to give this cure to the world…the least he could do was trust it.

"How did it happen again, a car wreck, right?"

"Yeah, they abducted her right form the hotel where the President and the military have set up shop. This all went down on the very first day they arrived in town, there were still some understandable holes in security at that point, let me tell you, the place is like a fortress now!"

"Abducted her? But she was killed? Things went wrong then?" Jake queried.

Elijah nodded. "Very wrong, we still have no idea why they took her like that. Why they wanted her alive instead of just killing her in the hotel, we'll probably never know for sure. Though knowing what these sadistic bastards are capable of, I'm betting they just wanted to make her suffer longer…to have her under _their_ control. In that regard it might be a mercy that she died that night...as opposed to us failing to rescue her from their clutches."

"You were part of the rescue mission?" Elijah was ex-military and knew the region well; it only made sense that he had been part of the search party.

"Yes, I was, but we failed…she didn't deserve to die like that. The soldiers from the James, all the people that knew her and had been with her on her journey for the cure, they were all devastated by her death...they still are, _especially Admiral Chandler_."

Both men sat in silence for a good while. Jake absorbing the horrible, but certain to be historic, events his friend had shared with him. Elijah lost in his own memories and regrets of that tragic night.

Not long later, Elena and Rebecca finally returned. Jake let out a breath he was only half aware he had been holding. He was definitely a lot more comfortable these days when _both_ women were in his constant sight.

"How are you, Elijah?" Elena went to greet her husband's old friend warmly, however, she noticed he was just staring at Rebecca who was at her side, his jaw slightly slack.

Elijah couldn't help but stare fixedly at the woman who had just stepped onto the porch with his good friend's wife.

"Oh my God! It's **_you!_** _"_ He exclaimed.

"Elijah, what's wrong? What you're saying? _Wait_ …are you saying that you recognize Rebecca?!" Questioned Elena excitedly.

"Yes, I recognize her! _Every_ person who wasn't living completely cut off from modern society would! She is Dr. Rachel Scott!"

" ** _What?!_** But how can that be? You _just_ told me she _died_!" Said Jake, shocked and confused by his friends seemingly certain pronouncement of the famous identity of their long time guest.

"We made a mistake! We must have! It's the only explanation, for I am looking at a very much alive Rachel Scott standing right in front of me at this very moment, I swear it! I need to get back and tell people, I need to tell the Admiral!"

Elijah knew his words must sound more like rants, but he couldn't help it, he was just so excited, so overcome with joy! He personally may not have known Dr. Rachel Scott, but back in town, and many other towns across the country, and even world, the people had taken this amazing woman, their saviour, their beloved martyr, into their hearts. Seeing her standing before him in the flesh was the most surreal experience he could imagine.

* * *

Rebecca was in shock. Throughout the entire revelation she hadn't spoken a word, stunned into silence and lost in her thoughts. It was all just so overwhelming to take in. All this time without her memories, without an identity, and now this strange man was telling her he knew exactly who she was, that she was someone named Rachel Scott…and that she was a _Doctor_ no less! Surely he was wrong, surely she would know? Surely this was the moment that he would say her name, if it was her name, and she would recognise it, and maybe memories that showed the truth of his words would return to her in a flood….but, nothing…

Elijah soon departed, eager to inform his friends of Dr. Scott's miraculous, if still unexplained, survival. Jake would not allow him to share either his news or their location by radio, Elijah agreed but made a very important counter demand, that the other man make sure 'Rebecca' went nowhere before he could return…for he would return _very_ soon, and he _wouldn't_ be alone. Jake agreed.

Later than night, Rebecca… _or Rachel_ , lay curled up on her bed shedding silent tears in the darkness. Helplessly tormented by a mixture of anxiety and fear about what she might soon discover about herself.

* * *

As soon as Elijah made it back to town, he headed straight for the Naval Command Centre and asked to speak to Admiral Chandler about a matter of _great_ importance.

"Elijah, how are you? The wrist is healing well I hope?" Said Tom, curious at the man's unexpected and apparently urgent arrival in his office.

"Going fine, recovery takes a bit longer when you get older, but no dramas." Elijah answered absently, his mind a along way from his nearly completely healed wrist.

"That's good." Tom answered appropriately, before getting down to business. He knew this wasn't a social call. "What brings you here today?"

"I went to visit an old friend who lives a fair away from the city… they have a _guest_ staying with them…" Elijah smiled brightly, he just couldn't help himself, but of course he only saw confusion in the Admiral's eyes.

Elijah just couldn't hold in his joyous and history making news any longer.

"Admiral, _She's_ **_alive!_** "

"Who?" Tom asked, confused.

" ** _Dr. Scott!_** " He exclaimed excitedly.

Tom felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. He could barely hide the agony in his eyes.

" _What?!"_ He asked, shocked.

"I don't pretend to know how this happened, Sir. All I know for certain is that the woman staying with my friends is Dr. Rachel Scott!"

"Impossible!" Tom growled more than spoke. "Rachel _died!"_ He continued miserably, his façade cracking.

Tom did not want to feel hope, it would be too painful when it inevitably came to naught.

"I don't know how this could have happened either, Admiral, but _it's her!_ I've seen that video of her healing the child… _more than once_ …most people have. It. Is. Her. And she's alive! I'm sure of it!"

Tom considered Elijah's joy and exuberance at his news. The man seemed _so_ sure, it was tempting to allow himself to be infected by that joy…to believe in the miracle he was exuding…but… "If she were _somehow_ alive, Elijah, a very big ' ** _if_** '…she would have returned to us..." Tom explained sadly.

"She lost her memory! All of it! Gone! She didn't even have the faintest idea who she was until I showed up. My friends have been calling her _Rebecca!"_

"That was Rachel's mother's name…" Tom whispered, almost to himself.

Then, in a flash of sudden movement, Elijah watched the Admiral stand up and run to his office door; there he yelled orders to his aide.

"Martinez! Find Captain Slattery, Tex, Green, Burk and Dr. Milowsky, have them report to me **_now_**!"

"Yes, sir!" The young man answered immediately.

Tom turned back to Elijah, now committed to this path, even if he was still more than half convinced it could only lead to further heartache...and not only for him. Rachel had been beloved...and widely so, even by those who had never even met her. Something that had become excruciatingly clear when the news she had perished had spread.

"Tell me what you know, Elijah, _everything!_ " He ordered.

Elijah did, though there was little else for him to add, he had hightailed it back here so quickly after making his amazing discovery. He explained that both Jake and Elena were his long term trusted friends, that his visit had been about bringing the cure to them, and ultimately how he had quite shockingly come face to face with the very much alive woman that so many people knew of so well.

He also explained how 'Rebecca' had been found. The timeline matched up, that was an important piece of evidence. And he gave a brief listing of her injuries, injuries she had since thankfully largely recovered from…at least the _physical_ ones. He confirmed the amnesia she suffered from appeared to be a severe case, to have lasted so long and leaving her still not able to even recognize her own name when it was spoken.

The worst scenarios passed through Tom's mind, more images to add to his list of nightmares. "How bad were these injuries?"

Elijah sighed, now the other man just seemed to be trying to torture himself, but at least he seemed to be onboard with at least _the possibility_ that his lost woman was indeed miraculously alive…that was what everyone called her, though never in the Admiral's hearing.

"There were _a lot_ of cuts and bruises…" He admitted. "It was clear she had been bound by rope at both her wrists and ankles, her hands and feet were a mess apparently, likely from both breaking free of her bonds and making her way a great distance on bare feet when she escaped…" Elijah cautiously explained.

"But the worst of it was several severe injuries to her head, they were the cause of the greatest fear for her life in the early days after my friends found her, and of course a likely reason for her amnesic state, though I don't think emotional trauma can be discounted as a contributing cause."

Mike was the first to arrive.

"Elijah! How are you?" Mike was surprised to find that the other man was somehow a part of whatever this great emergency was. "Tom, what's going on?"

"Elijah has just come to me and shared his belief that not only does he think Rachel is alive…he also claims to know where she is."

"What?!" "How?!" They all exclaimed in shock.

"Now, can someone explain to me how _and if_ this is even possible?! Mike, you told me a body was found, that it was positively identified as being Rachel…do you still stand by that?"

Mike was shocked almost speechless, but knew better than to keep his friend waiting right now, he looked about at the end of his tether. "Tom, you know we don't have the facilities to make the in depth identifications…especially given the… _condition_ …of her body…that would have been possible in the old world. But, she was seen in the car _just_ before the crash and the fire, the clothing matched, what was left of it… The jewelry recovered was recognized and identified as hers and we ** _did_** manage to get a clean sample of blood from a handkerchief found on the scene and run it… _it matched, Tom_. We were as sure as we could possibly be. We still are as far as I know…what _exactly_ has changed?"

Tom ignored the question and directed his gaze to their remaining resident scientist. "Dr. Milowsky?" He questioned, not even needing to specify that he was directing the very same question at him.

The man keenly felt the anxiety of the room but preceded to share what information he could, none of which was information he had not shared before. "I was the one that ran the DNA from the handkerchief recovered from the scene, I compared it with that of a toothbrush I personally recovered from her hotel room…the test resulted in a positive match."

Milowsky hesitated to continue further, for the most part everyone had tried their best to spare the Admiral from the most gruesome details of Dr. Scott's death, but right now he felt that he had little choice, though he still tried to gloss over the worst of it as much as possible.

God knew, Rachel had merely been his friend and a fellow Scientist he respected immensely, and the examination he had been forced to preform had been hard enough for him! He could only imagine the idea of the Admiral seeing her like that. "I examined her body too…" He began tentatively. "It was _extremely_ badly burned, so much so that it was not viable to retrieve DNA directly from, not with out more basic testing abilities…and as far as dental and medical information, we had none to compare them too, so such clues were useless for identification.

Tom considered both men's explanations again. None of it was new information, but Elijah's arrival and conviction of belief did make him consider it all in a different light. And that light _did_ allow a shadow of doubt to be cast over events…

"Prepare the helicopter. I will have my answer… _one way or the other_ …before this day is out! Elijah, you're coming too, give the pilot the coordinates." Ordered Tom, and everyone rushed to obey, just as eager to find the answer now that this shocking question had been asked.

* * *

TBC


	8. Two Halves

**"Love sees with the heart and not with the eyes" (Shakespeare)**

* * *

Chapter 8: Two Halves

* * *

 **A/N:** The one you've been waiting for... :-)

* * *

The helicopter landed and Tom jumped out that very second, anxious to confirm Elijah's information. Scared to death of how he, or any of them, would handle disappointment, not after allowing themselves to actually hope.

From the window, Rebecca saw the arrival of the strangers, four men, all armed. One of the men caught her eye far more than the others. He stood out from the rest, by his aura of authority and trust, everything about the man screamed that he was in change.

It was an older man and woman who first exited the cabin to greet their party, their countenance nervous even though Tom knew their arrival was not unexpected by these people. He supposed it was possible their arrival in a _helicopter_ had been less expected.

Tom barely managed to keep his patience in check as Elijah introduced them all to his old friends, Elena and Jake. He thought he muttered the appropriate greetings at least half heartedly, but as his gaze was torn to the most exceptionally wondrous vision in existence exiting the cabin, he couldn't be sure of what he had actually said.

 ** _It was her._**

That was all his brain could muster, and it repeated over and over again in his mind. _It was_ ** _her._** As Rachel slowly walked towards him, her gaze and countenance as timid as he had never seen her, the other people around them ceased to exist.

He had come here for her, and yet he was still shocked speechless by the reality of her standing before him… _alive!_

Instead of speaking, something he currently questioned his ability to do, he took her in. Her hair was shorter, just skimming her shoulders, she had a small scar on her left temple, she wore a green blouse and jeans and she was barefoot. Yet another way he had never seen her. Though as he thought about it, he realized he did have a vague memory of her with short hair like this…

 _The dream! I knew you were alive! I just knew in my heart that you were alive, Rachel._

There was a dog standing close to her side; a Labrador. Moving instinctively, Tom took a step forward, but Rachel stepped back, also an instinctive action it would seem if her dear caught in headlight look was any indication.

Rebeca was startled by the intensity she saw the stranger's eyes. He looked at her as if she were the most important person in the world; she also noticed his wedding ring. Was he the man of her dreams? He took another step toward her, but purely on instinct she again recoiled slightly. Fear. Fear of the unknown he represented.

Tom saw the fear in Rachel's eyes. She did not remember them. She was possibly even afraid of him. It hurt, he wanted to run and embrace her and never let her go ever again. But he could not, by the look on her face there was only one way to play this. He had to earn her trust…and her love, all over again. So be it, she was worth it.

With great restraint, Tom extended his hand and politely introduced himself "Thomas Chandler." The polite social action would at least give him the chance to touch her, he reasoned. And also to _make sure_ …he didn't know where that thought had come from exactly, but the part of him that still wasn't completely sure he wasn't seeing the most beautiful marriage imaginable, or was lost back in his dream. A dream that had suddenly decided to become much more real.

She hesitated, but eventually returned the greeting. "Rebecca". She said, and she lifted her hand to his…and they met.

"It's a pleasure to meet you… _Rebecca_." Rebecca was aware that he took far longer than necessary to release her hand, but for some reason she allowed it, maybe because she was feeling a flow of electric current through their joined fingers.

"I'd like to introduce you to Green, Tex and Burk."

The three men smiled widely at her. They seemed very happy to see her. In that moment she was almost sure that these men did know her. And it was the strangest thing to realize that if that was true, then they knew her far better than she new herself.

"Rebecca, would it be possible for us to speak privately?" The man who introduced himself as Thomas asked.

She was unsure, but the need for answers and also the strange new need to be near this man answered for her. "Yes…"

"Are you sure, Dear?" Elena asked worriedly.

"I need answers, I'll be fine." Rebecca said more confidently.

The others moved off, leaving the pair alone on the front porch.

Well, alone save a very protective dog. Tom approached cautiously and then stroked the animal. "Looks like you found a protector, Husky, right?"

"Yes, he must like you."

Rebecca sat on the bench, Husky at her feet and Tom followed her lead and sat as well, though he chose the single seat across from her instead of the bench beside her he would have preferred.

Rebecca saw him stiffen as he sat, as if in pain. He saw the question in her eyes.

"Old injury." He explained dismissively.

"If it was old it would not cause you such pain." She reasoned, unsure where this instinct to assure herself of his welfare had come from.

"Touché! Some _injuries_ take longer to heal." He smiled.

And with those words she got the distinct impression that he was not talking about his injury.

"You must have questions." He said.

And she did, chief among them was… "How can I be sure I'm the one you lost?"

"You are." He declared with confidence.

"You're so sure?"

"I'm that sure." He declared again with utter resolve.

Rebecca decided to accept his surety, for now, and question that point no further. _He really did seem so sure…_ And she did not believe she detected any deceit in the man or his pronouncement.

"Do I have a family?"

"Umm…your parents are dead, and you aren't married, you don't' have any children…" Tom really wished he was sharing better news, only as he spoke did he realise how unappealing the life he was asking her to return to sounded on the surface. He would have to find a way to show her under that surface. "Rebecca was actually your Mother's name. I think you do not have your memories to some degree, maybe you can't access them most of the time, but they are still there."

Rebecca felt a warm sensation in her chest to know that she had chosen her mothers name and her own. Quickly followed by a much colder sensation upon realised that the unknown woman was dead. Still, Rebecca had been the name that had been most familiar to her when she had desperately gone mentally searching for a name.

And of course Rebecca couldn't prevent her desolation at the confirmation of what she had already ascertained from his polite and formal manner towards her.

 _He is not my husband…_ She wasn't surprised, but still, when she had seen the ring and felt the attraction, she had hoped that that be the way of it. But no, instead he was another woman's husband.

"So no one misses me." She said allowed.

"That's not true! You're part of our family. You have friends, many many friends and even many others who don't even know you but will be delighted to hear that you are alive and safe. " _And me, you have me_ , he wanted to say.

It was too painful, she had hoped for so much more only to hear that she had 'friends' The huge let down that was the revelation of her family, or lack thereof, was too painful, so she moved them on. "Who am I? What do I do?"

"Your name is Rachel Scott, _Doctor_ Rachel Scott, you're a virologist. You found the cure for the disease that devastated the world. You worked on the Nathan James, the ship I commanded.

"We were allies, then." She absorbed the information.

 _We will be more than_ that, Tom thought.

"Yes, my job was to protect you so that you could develop the cure. You were the brains and I was the brawn."

And for the first time she did doubt his words, though she thought the lie was more self effacing, rather than nefarious in nature. No one came to the position he occupied who wasn't intelligent and skilled in their field.

Tom saw her scepticism, he figured it was regarding her saving the world. Little did he know she was far more interested, at the present moment, _in him_ , and a lot less so in herself or the rest of the world.

"You are one of the best in your field, no, I take back what I said; you are _the best_ in your field."

"Probably because everyone else is dead."

"Rachel ... sorry, _Rebecca_ …" It was hard for him to look into her beautiful eyes and call her by any other name than the name he had come to love for its connection to the woman he loved. "There are millions of people across this globe who owe their lives to you, _Rebecca_. Starting with me, my family, the crew of my ship, and the citizens of St. Louis. I can get you testimonials from all of those people, if you won't believe me."

" _Millions_ of testimonials?" She was more than a little skeptical of his claim and she thought her tone easily conveyed that, but he didn't bite, just proceeded to answer her question completely seriously.

"I commanded more than two hundred men and women on the ship you basically commandeered on your personal crusade to save the world. Your mission to bring the cure to the world, a mission the men and woman on my vessel watched you rigorously pursue and then achieve. You could start with them." She realized he really was serious.

The woman of whom he spoke of, he spoke of with admiration, respect and something else Rebecca could not quite identify. She did not know if she could live in the shadow of this person…this apparently miraculous person this man somehow believed her to be. Rebecca didn't even know the man in front of her, but she already did not want to disappoint him.

"You want me to come back with you." Rebecca surmized. It was far more a statement that a question, but Tom answered her nonetheless.

"Yes, it is safer for you." He spoke emphatically. He did not even want to imagine the terrible possibility of having to leave her again having only just found her. Even the idea of her leaving his sight for a moment was less than palatable to his somersaulting stomach.

"I've been here for over two months, nothing has happened to me, no one has come." It was probably no mystery to either of them the type of people who might come, the ones that had so grievously injured her to start with.

Part of Rebecca wanted to ask him about them, about what he knew of what had been done to her and by whom and why. But she was scared, a large part of her did not want to hear his answers. That part of her was only too happy for that particular time from her forgotten history to stay exactly that way. She reasoned, she was not at all sure she wanted to give up the small amount of familiarity and safety she had been lucky enough to find in a world that was wholly unfamiliar to her and she knew, also very unsafe.

"Only because everybody thought that you were _dead_ , I'm afraid it might already be too late to keep this news from getting out. It is the biggest news since you created the cure, since you were killed! In fact, pretty much all the biggest news items of recent times have centred around _you!_ There is just no possibly that your return from the dead can be ignored. Rachel, sorry… _Rebecca_ …the woman I know would want answers, would want her life back, would want to continue to fulfil her mission, continue to help people, and Rebecca…just knowledge of your survival, seeing you alive again, that gift alone with help and give hope to so many people."

His speech did absolutely nothing to allay her concerns, in fact, she was now more sure than ever that there was simply no way that she, _Rebecca_ , could possibly fill the shoes of the woman all these people seemed to desperately believe her to be.

She was afraid, deathly afraid that there was literally no chance she could meet their expectations and therefore absolutely no reason for her to leave the safety of the warm cocoon of caring and love she had been gifted here in this place. She answered him stubbornly, unknowingly giving him a large glimpse into _'his'_ Rachel.

"Well I don't believe you. I don't believe I was or could possibly fill the shoes of this woman you are describing. You say this woman died. I think that is the real truth of the matter…regardless if the reality is the I now inhabit her body…she is still dead and gone. For I am not, nor will I ever again be, _her_. It sounds like you are looking for a saint, Thomas Chandler, I suggest you look elsewhere for I am not who and what you are looking for."

Tom struggled to maintain his frustration and his anger, despite her entire countenance having shifted to the very familiar sometimes opponent he had oft battled with most enjoyably during their long and trying mission together. "Denying the truth will not change who you are. _You are Doctor Rachel Scott_!" He said decisively, no longer able to continue the charade of calling her the name that did nothing now but allow her to hide from who she truly was.

Rebecca lost her temper and began shouting, it was doubtless that it was fear that was motivating her anger. But fear, especially for one in her unique position, was an eminently powerful force. "My name is _Rebecca!_ I don't know you or your friends, and I am not going _back!"_ She yelled, emphasizing the last word.

Husky was becoming restless at her side, easily picking up on his mistresses distress, even before the volume of her voice rose, he had started to eye Tom more as an opponent rather than the friend of his humans he had originally been introduced as.

Tom lost his temper too, they were screaming at each other now. "Exactly! _Back,_ Rachel! ** _Back!_** Even your subconscious acknowledges that _back_ with me is where you came from originally! _Rachel,_ ** _please!_** We thought you were dead for _two months,_ we thought you had burned to death horribly in that accident, we buried you, or we thought we had." _I'll find out how they made this_ _mistake! He silently promised himself._ "You simply _cannot_ stay here any longer, you _will not_ stay here any longer, it's just not safe for you."

Rebecca was now boiling with anger. Anger aimed squarely at the demanding and self righteous man in front of her. "Who do you think you are?"

"God! Why do you always have to be _so stubborn,_ Rachel?" He ran an exasperated hand through his silver hair.

"I'm stubborn? You're the one who waltzes in here, _a perfect stranger to me_ , and demands that I have no other choice than to do exactly what you say!"

* * *

Those who had left them alone earlier, still easily heard every shouted word of the increasingly intense debate.

Jake wanted to interfere, but with confusion noticed that the soldiers were barely suppressing laughs, as if the situation was extremely comical to them, pleasantly nostalgic even.

Burk was the first to notice the other mans distress at what they were hearing. "You don't have to worry, sir, the Admiral would never hurt Dr. Scott."

Green continued to explain. "They often argue, Sir, it is a common behaviour for them. They are actually very close and trust and care about each other deeply, it is just that they are both...umm…"

"Stubborn as mules!" Tex provided, having no problem saying the words that Green could not pronounce, not when talking about a superior officer…or a highly respected friend and lady.

"Don't worry," Tex continued, smiling. "If he really gets her going it will be him that needs our protection, not her."

Elijah could see that his old friend was not completely put at ease by these strangers reassurances. "Don't worry, Jake. Thomas Chandler is a good man." Elijah said simply.

Elijah could see that the venerated and previously parentless Dr. Rachel Scott had collected a new set of parental figures during her absence from them. And he had the thought that Admiral Chandler had better watch his back. He could easily see that his friends could become some pretty damn fierce opponents if they thought anyone was hurting their newly adopted little chick.

Elena saw the way the Admiral had looked at their Rebecca, it was the look of a man who had had his greatest wish fulfilled. To have his lost love miraculously returned to him. And his soldiers spoke of him with respect and admiration. To begin with, that was enough for Elena to decide to support this man in his attempts to reclaim what was just within his grasps, but also just out of reach.

"You care about her." She stated, to no anyone in particular, but all these strange men combined.

"Yes, ma'am, she is part of our family." Green answered, the others shared agreements and similar sentiments.

* * *

Tom watched Rachel ... angry, defiant, stubborn, her eyes shining. She was ready to fight. God, she was beautiful! No words could express how happy he was to see her like that again. Obviously he would enjoy it if she were not angry at him too, he longer to hold her in his arms again, but right now he would take what he could get. And there was certainly plenty about her current demeanour that offered him fond remembrances of what he had come to love about this woman.

Rebecca was ready to hit this stupid, stupid, arrogant man...but a strange thing happened, he started smiling at her. The sweetest smile spread across his face, and she instantly forgot her rage. And for some reason his smile left her weak at the knees and made her heart start to beat faster in the chest.

"What's funny? She asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, Rachel. Sometimes we disagree, sometimes we fight, we can both be very stubborn when we think we are right. This is just like old times for me, some very fondly remembered old times." It was time for another tact, Tom thought.

"I thought we were allies." She questioned, still suspicious of the sudden change in him, and the treasonous reaction of her body to that change.

"Just because we have disagreed in the past, _heatedly_ , does not automatically mean we are not allies. Quite the contrary, it only means that we have had different points of view at times in the past…and have shared them with each other… _passionately_." He spoke that last word with a heat that communicated that she was free to interrupt them a more primal way as well.

"Doesn't sound like a very feasible alliance. I get the feeling that you do not like to lose an argument."

"You're right, I don't, but neither do you. In fact, I would have to say that we are quite equally matched in the area of our fervour for what we believe in. You have always been most worthy an opponent in our heated debates…for those short times when we were at odds that is. But that was not the way of it most of the time, most of the time we were indeed on the same page, supporting each other, and even when we weren't we always got the job done and ended as friends again…all the better friends, I have always thought, for the trails we endured and vanquished…together."

'Rachel' was thoughtful for several long moments. "And yet we are at an impasse here, Admiral…I did not accept your demands now, and as such I will no acquiesce to them."

"Call me Tom." He corrected, not acknowledging her repeated refusal of what _had_ to be done this day. _Bringing her home._

"Admiral, did you hear me…"

"It's Tom or Chandler if you must, you are not one of my soldiers."

"Admiral ..." She repeated, stubborn to the last.

Fearing the battle could be lost, an **_completely unacceptable_** outcome, Tom threw everything he had into a last ditch effort to convince her to trust him in this moment and in this all important matter. So he begged, he got down on his knees in front of her, nearly eye level with her dog that was eyeing him with clear caution, lest he upset his mistress again, and he begged her.

"Rachel, _please._ I acknowledge that it is up to you to decide, of course, I was wrong to demand before, I apologise. I know you don't know and remember me as I know and remember you, and I know things must be so confusing for you right now, but I beg you, _I beg you, please!_ **_Please_** come back with us, _back with me._ I could not bear it if something happened to you after we had only just been granted the miracle of your survival. It would be beyond devastating for so many people. And it is a _real possibility_ Rachel. You are a celebrity, that means _many many_ people love and adore you, but with great fame also comes the attentions of a small number of less desirable people as well…"

Tom paused, he hated this, not the begging, he couldn't care less how much he had to debase himself before only her if it made her safer, he couldn't care at all. What he hated was the direction he was going, the tact he was using. The last thing he wanted was to scare her into returning with him, or worse walking the line of the emotional blackmail path that had the potential to be the death knell for their not-yet relationship. But he felt he had little choice, and every word he spoke was in fact the truth, he hoped that fact would protect him when the time came.

"Rachel, these people, these few but very dangerous people, they are members of a group that were the ones to hurt you to begin with and if they learn of your survival, and especially your location out here isolated and virtually unprotected…I very much fear they could come for you again. And Rachel…if they did…they would find your new friends as well…" there he had done it, most likely won the argument, obtained the best chance for her continued safety, but possibly damaged their relationship once again, not that she remembered why that would be yet…

He could see the knowledge wash over her mind, he could see the fear. Though he instinctively knew that the fear reaction was far more for her new friends that it was for herself. It was just who she was. He continued. "I know its scary, I will do everything I can to make it less so for you. The Doctors may want to do some tests, to make sure you are healed, to see if anything can be done to help you retrieve your memories, but I will be with you the whole way…if you want that…or if you don't, well I will still be very close, there is no helping that. I don't think I am going to be very good at letting you out of my sight for a while…a good long while actually. Please come with us, I will make sure you will have no reason to regret it, _I promise you, Rachel_."

'Rachel' was somewhat stunned, she did not speak for several moments. She just gazed into his pleading depths…and thought. What if he was right? What if she was putting people in danger by stubbornly staying out of her only personal fear? She did feel like she could trust him, it was a deep and unclear instinct in her gut, but still it told her she could. And she did at least have some actual evidence that said she could trust him. Her very good friend's very good friend had vouched for the man kneeling before her. All evidence was that he was who he said he was and this was no scam. Which would also mean that _she_ was who he said she was too… An extremely surreal thought, based on the super woman like picture he had painted of her.

Something else she knew was that the man before her was _absolutely not_ accustomed to begging, but he was doing it for her anyway, and completely unashamedly. That fact, added to the other, helped her come to her decision and feel confident in it, or at least as confident as she was going to get anytime soon…

* * *

"She agreed to go back with us!" Tom informed the others, emerging and smiling victoriously, as if from battle.

And the three men who had accompanied him cheered as if his words really did indicate a war victory won.

* * *

Rebecca was in the bedroom packing her things to leave when Elena sort her out and entered.

"What do you think of the Admiral? Once you got past the urge to strangle him I mean."

She smiled and they both laughed.

"He seems like a good man, though a little authoritarian for my liking."

"But he isn't always so, is he? I don't think you would be packing right now if he had merely ordered you to do so?" Elena questioned knowingly, despite not having been able to hear what had been said when they weren't yelling at each other, she had a fair idea that the tone of the conversation had turned quite drastically to cause such a drastic change in her friend.

"No, no…he…he…he got down on his knees and begged me to come with him, he basically said he couldn't bare to be separated form me again."

Elena raised an eyebrow, her question clear.

"He's married, Elena. In addition, he is not my type." Because he couldn't be, she spoke and thought resolutely. And if she repeated that enough times to herself, she might just be able to make herself beehive it.

"Rebecca…should I still be calling you Rebecca? Or would you prefer Rachel now?" Elena questioned, genuinely not minding, just wanting to know what her dear friend preferred.

Rachel/Rebecca didn't hesitate. " _You_ may call be Rebecca for as long as you wish, Elena, but from now on I doubt many others will. I don't think anyone else is going to let me hide behind Rebecca anymore…they all want me to be this Rachel Scott… _desperately_ it would seem. I really don't know that I can live up to all they want of me. This woman they believe me to be, she sounds amazing…how can that be me, Elena?"

"Ok, Rebecca, I call BS on that first part, Thomas Chandler is _every_ woman type of man."

"Elena!" She exclaimed, shocked at her friends directness.

"What? I'm married, but I'm not dead, honey. By the way, I noticed the ring too, it was most at odds with the way he was looking at you so I asked Elijah. He's a widower.

Rebecca/Rachel…. _Rachel_ , **_Rachel_** , she should start thinking of herself as _Rachel_. Lord knew, where she had agreed to go everyone else was going to. _Rachel_ could not pretend that the information that Elena had obtained for her wasn't…interesting…but still. "It doesn't matter, Elena, if he still wears the ring then he still _feels_ married and therefore there can't be or have been anything between us, I, and apparently you as well, are imagining it. He was obviously just happy to find me alive, that was all his enthusiasm was.

"The way he looked at you was fiercely protective, Rebecca, _very_ intense, if you know what I mean. It is not the look of a man who _feels_ married, not at all"

 _Rachel_ could admit, to herself, that she wanted Elena to be right, but after so many months of disappointment she dared not let that want turn into a real hope. Though she remembered what she felt at his first touch…based on just that if he told her that she had been the one to put that wedding ring on his finger she would have believed him. But it wasn't so, another woman had done that, another woman he was most likely still holding dear in his heart.

She shook her head to clear those thoughts. Her survival instincts that had gotten her this far was screaming at her not to set herself up for such a large fall, for she feared she could not readily survive it in her present state. "He told me I'm the brains of the operation, he probably considers me a valuable resource or something, not that I know what he possibly thinks i'm going to be able to contribute in my current state… But anyway, my life is already confusing enough without a man in the equation."

Elena didn't believe her friend for a second but she ignored the lie of self protection and spoke reassuringly. "You'll be fine, you have friends. Many many friends by the sounds of it. And I don't very a second believe you incapable of filling the shoes of the amazing woman they have described, quite the contrary, I find their descriptions very apt."

Silence passed between he two woman for several moments.

"She's right, but don't feel you have to go with them, Rebecca, you can still stay here with us. I'll protect you from them if you really don't want to go." Jake said. The pair had not noticed his arrival.

In reality _Rachel_ knew that Jake would not be capable of any such thing if these people really had the desire to take her by force, but luckily it was not the case. "Thank you Jake, but I believe I should go with them, I believe it is time. While a part of me likes the idea of hiding from the world forever here with you both, the problem is that is exactly what it would be; hiding. I can't hide anymore."

She smiled warmly at both her friends who had really become like surrogate patents to her during her recovery.

"I'll never be able to thank either of you enough what did you did for me. You saved my life…and made me actually want to live again."

Neither Jake nor Elena spoke, they just nodded and smiled, both warmly and sadly. They were both sad to see her go, all three sets of eyes shone with unshed tears.

 _Rachel_ stroked the dog, letting him lick her face. "Goodbye my friend."

"You'll be fine, they'll take care of you, I can see it in all of them. They love you and they will protect you with their lives." Said Elena looking at the men who were waiting for her near the helicopter, having retreating to allow her to say her private goodbyes.

"Remember, you can always come back, you will always be welcomed back here with open arms." Said Jake wholeheartedly, his wife nodded in vigorous agreement.

Rachel hugged them both, a few tears falling.

"We will see each other again, soon, we will make sure of it." She assured them and also vowed to herself to make it so.

Now both husband and wife nodded vigorously in agreement, losing their own battles of shedding tears. Not that Elena was actually trying to stop her reaction to the both sad and happy events, but her husband was. Of course tears were just not 'manly'. Showed what the world knew, for it took great strength to know and feel ones own emotions, and not suppress them.

With effort 'Rachel' turned, picked up her small bag, and made her way quickly to the helicopter and the waiting men, afraid that if she dallied too long, she would lose her nerve.

"It is good to have you back, Doc." Said the man named Tex. Others smiled in agreement.

"Thank you." She answered shyly, the familiar attention from all the men, especially the more familiar look in this Tex's eyes, was still strange to her. But she thought she had better get used to it, people acting as though they knew her far better then she knew then. By all accounts, she was about to be taken to a place where that was likely to be the case with every person she met!

 ** _He_** was the one that offered his hand to her to help her into the helicopter, she accepted and _Rachel_ could feel that feeling again, when he touched her fingers. _He is a_ _married man,_ she scolded myself.

The noise of the helicopter taking flight prevented further conversation, and while Rachel still has an immeasurable number of questions, she was glad of it. She vowed to use this short time to mentally prepare herself for the emotionally taxing ordeal that she knew was to come. That she knew was inevitable, whatever way things went...

* * *

TBC

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope everyone has everything crossed for the deciding of our fates tomorrow (though not wanting to overdramatise things of course...) ;-P Also, check out my new Tom/Rachel vid on Youtube, first vid ever!


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